


Reckless Abandon: Happiness

by Teal_Rainbeau



Series: Reckless Abandon: A three-part Klance AU Drama series [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Parents, All characters are over 21 years of age, Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Keith (Voltron), Beach City, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood and Violence, Bougie people, But other things are in the way, Chief Krolia Kogane, Deputy Shirogane, Doctor Allura (Voltron), Drama & Romance, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Graduate School, Idiots in Love, Implied /Referenced Racism, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Krolia (Voltron) is a Good Parent, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Organized Crime, Other, Pidge and Hunk own a food truck, Professor Adam (Voltron), Sensuality, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soap Opera, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Teacher Lance (Voltron), klangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teal_Rainbeau/pseuds/Teal_Rainbeau
Summary: Without a job or promised funds, Keith Kogane escapes Balmera Valley and comes to live in Olkari Beach with his mother, Krolia.Lance McClain lives with wealthy fiancee Anna Komatsu as both prepare for graduate studies at Olkari UniversityWhen the two men reunite, they will discover over time that an idyllic setting like Olkari Beach is not a resort from angst.__________________________________________________________________________________________Update 10/6:I've updated Chapter 6 with an additional 3,000 words to better flesh out plot and to end Part 1 more appropriately.♬Spotify Playlist♬Thanks so much for all of your support! ♡





	1. Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> I've been daydreaming about this storyline for a while, and this is going to be updated slowly, but surely. The story itself will be written with a slow process in mind.
> 
> tealrainbeau.tumblr.com is where you can talk to me, or find some of my original artwork to this story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, Shiro lived 20 minutes north from Krolia, in a house nestled in the hills. Just near enough for the house to overlook the ocean, he bet.
> 
> After Krolia parked, Keith remained in the passenger seat for a moment while he collected himself with a few quick breaths. He swung open the door, immediately wishing that he could have just stayed snuggled in his seat belt. Social gatherings were always awkward enough without having the sheer terror of meeting old friends who were surely strangers at this point.
> 
> “I should have called.” His voice cracked.
> 
> “Blame me. Your arrival was kept a surprise on purpose. Shiro told Adam not to say a thing.”
> 
> “So, everyone’ll hang me tomorrow?” Keith exhaled, breaths coming out in ripples.
> 
> “They’re mature enough to let bygones be bygones. That is, if you all have truly been friends from the beginning.”

_[Chapter title: Keith](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a5dfa478a9563da5c2624b0061887670/tumblr_pq0drk3Oa41wu2uk6_1280.jpg) _

     Olkari Beach. With its old-world display of cobblestone streets and plethora of upper end shops and boutiques, it looked just as much a vacation resort as anything a brochure would entice with. Behind the natural beauty were million-dollar homes that were probably built with tiles worth a fraction of that. Long palm trees stood against a violet backdrop, passing in perfect symmetry as the Uber car continued towards the traffic stop.

     “Mind if I open a window?” Keith Kogane was beginning to find the artificial air from the car’s vents stifling.

     “Go for it, man.”

     He sighed as the glass descended into its slot, inviting a hopefully much fresher breeze.

     A yelp splashed from his tongue as the vehicle jolted rudely forward.

     “Sorry about that, dude.” The young uber driver stammered shyly.

     “Um…no worries...” he lied. Keith had been on edge since leaving the dead weight of Balmera Valley’s smog and heat behind. The transition to ocean air initially made him choke, yet it was beginning to feel just as salty and pleasantly penetrating as he remembered his last visit years ago.

     “We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” The young uber driver announced. He was friendly enough, but Keith was in no mood to make small talk, running on his body’s fumes from seeing the sun setting now twice during his wake. He spent the rest of his ride with his arms crossed tightly across his chest and his stare fixated on the passing scenery. Only momentarily did he take out his phone to send a message to the woman who was providing him with room and board.

 **_Keith:_ ** _I’m about 20 min away_

 **_Mom:_ ** _I won’t be home for another few hours._

 **_Keith:_ ** _Okay. See you later tonight._

~~~~~

     Lance McClain tinkered away at a 20-page long thesis, one that would hopefully guarantee a teaching assistant grant. The series of pages explained what his plan was for the 1 year he would spend in Olkari University’s Multiple Subject program. Most of it summarizing a dozen or so ways _not_ to burn out in this program. Maybe burning more than the midnight oil would be necessary; he should probably burn some of that incense that his girlfriend enjoyed so much. Was it _sex on the beach_ , or…

     He barely heard the delicate tapping of heels cutting into his concentration.

     "Anna? That you, baby?"

     She draped her arms over his broad chest, leaving her intoxicating scent of apple musk to awaken his dulling senses. Her dark plum hair curtained behind her as she pulled away her white ribbon.

     "Text bothering you again?" her violet eyes softened, lips curled into a small grin. He easily sensed the undercurrent of her arousal despite the absence of her flirts. Definitely the nerdy thick-rimmed reading glasses.

     Lance sighed, wishing he didn’t have to annotate with texts that used a _six point-or-so font_. "Can’t wait ‘till I’m done reading this complicated sh-stuff. " he grinned sheepishly as he corrected his French. "How do I look?"

     "Like a sexy teacher’s aide." She gazed with rose brushing her cheeks.

     She kissed his cheek and grabbed a stack of already typed pages, careful not to disrupt his system. She settled on a blank surface beside him, fingers occasionally tracing what she read.

     "Hmmm." She tilted her head inquisitively.

     "What did you find?"

     “Just a small spelling error, you spelled house with a "w" in it."

     Also: inconsistent syntax and another page where a paragraph was duplicated. The girl was ruthless when it came to the written word. But it was this woman’s proofreading expertise that earned Lance at least an A- on most if not all of his essays back in his undergraduate days.

     Graduation felt like an eternity ago, not the hectic two months they spent moving and getting settled. With the blessing of her trust fund, they managed to get a stylish penthouse suite together only ten minutes from Olkari’s campus. It was his job, therefore, to make sure her heart never wanted for a damn thing, _por nada._

     Lance waited for her to set down the pages before scooping her up in his arms and pulling her in his lap. The woman yelped jovially, wrapping her hands around his shoulders to keep her petite form from tilting over.

     "You know...you may have finished writing the rest of my paper for me. Can we celebrate?" he purred.

     Anna peered out the corner of her eyes, her amethyst jewels pretending to be lost in contemplation, then returned to peer into his sapphires. "Yeah." She pressed her nose into his with a smile, then tilted and moved her mouth against his in a short but sweet motion.

     Lance giggled. "Wait, hold on, I still haven’t printed- _never mind_!" His capacity to think scrambled as her fingers played against the back of his neck, one hand removing his glasses. They kissed as she tangled his tie between her long fingers, coaxing him gently towards their bedroom.

     Within minutes she was on her back, hair splayed over their silk pillows, and apricot toasted skin awash and exposed in the deep indigo of the midnight’s hue. Lance brushed his thumb against her berry stained lips with a fervor matching the fire warming inside of his abdomen. Their breaths escalated, and she murmured something unintelligible to him while she unbuttoned his shirt. Might have been English or Japanese. Hard to tell, but it drove him giddy inside.

     "Hmm?" He peered teasingly into her embarrassed glower, removing the rest of his shirt. All he received from her was an indignant “nothing” while she bit her bottom lip. " _Really_?" He rose a flirty eyebrow and buried his mouth into her neck, rewarding himself with her uncontrollable chuckles as he bit playfully.

 *****

 **_Mom:_ ** _Key’s hidden in gravel of aloe plant. Your room will be on the door farthest to the left_

 **_Keith:_ ** _K. Thanks._

     They arrived at the home at last. Keith granted the gentleman some loose coins and a $5 bill, making a final salute as the car drove away. With his duffle bag at his feet, he stretched his back and let out a lion sized yawn.

     As he scanned the walkway’s multicolor pebble path, he looked ahead and found a family of small potted plants greeting him. What the hell did an aloe plant look like?

     “What does an aloe plant look like?” he asked the assistant in his phone.

     After a pleasant beep, the voice explained the origins of said plant, while bringing up a photo of something that reminded him of a nautical cactus or something. The juice of the aloe plant was also great for treating sunburns...Now that he remembered, it was a plant more native to desert climates.

     With a smirk, he found what he was looking for hanging under the ceiling of the front porch.

     After opening the door and immediately locking it behind him, his eyes lightly scanned his new surroundings. The house was swallowed in the absence of light, though he could make out something like a couch and a hard wood floor. He allowed his footsteps to guide him according to the previous text his mother sent him, but damn near broke his neck stumbling over an elevated level of flooring. A growl exhumed from his throat. Turning on the lights would have been helpful, but sleep was already setting up camp in his weighed-down vessel.

     He opened the door slowly and stopped to lazily make out the shapes in his room. A few pictures of art on the wall, carpeted floor, and a large king-size bed with layers of bedding and God knows _how many_ pillows.  He kicked off his sneakers, pants, and shirt and allowed them to land on a chair next to his bed. He put his duffle bag to rest at the foot of his bed. After falling into the slow sinking mattress, slumber finally possessed him within 2 minutes.

~~~~~

     A soft timbre stirred Lance from his deep sleep, which he recognized as the distant summon from his phone. Careful not to disturb his sleeping lover, he quickly grabbed some sweats draped over a chair and snuck to the kitchen. The device was still ringing right next to his laptop where he left it. He stumbled into his pants and reached to answer just in the nick of time.

     " _I dun fucked up_." A girl's voice sounded shakily. It was Pidge, one of his best childhood friends.

     "Who robbed you this time?" He muttered rubbing a hand down his entire face.

     " _No one got anywhere near our truck this time, doofus_!"

     He cringed a little. "Well excuse me for jumping to conclusions at one in the damn morning!" He whispered harshly, rubbing his disheveled hair.

     " _I take it wifey's sleeping right now_?" Pidge knew that Anna didn't like profanity much, and that Lance would let a few words slip when she wasn't around.

     "Yeah. Now you fucked up _what_ exactly?"

     “ _I thought I ordered 10 bags of flour for the muffins that everyone and their children seem to love so damn much, and Hunk wants to start baking them at the crack of dawn so that they're ready by the breakfast rush_."

     "Okay..." Lance settled into a chair, elevating a foot into another chair.

     " _But I put the damn thing in the cart and forgot to finalize the actual order! You don't happen to have an economy bulk size of Olkari brand flour on hand, do you_?"

     "Pidge, you might have to tell Hunk that the website froze, or that they ran out of stock...what were you so busy with?"

     " _We had a cooking oil leak, and that took up most of our time! Thankfully, no one blew up. Health inspector would have had a field day._ "

     Lance tapped his hand on the cedarwood table nervously, his gaze shooting back to the bedroom. Maybe Anna could do something? She was always good at sorting out a crisis...He asked Pidge to hold on for a moment.

     Hunk, as good natured as he was, was a complete basket case in an emergency. Pidge knew better than to be straight with him about their troubles without attempting to find a solution first.

     He rushed over to his sleeping girlfriend and moved her gently with his voice. "Sweetheart. Pidge is on the phone...with a crisis."

     She moaned sleepily and sat up, adjusting a fallen strap of her lacy tank top. She took the phone from him and began to speak to Pidge in a tone contrasting the girl’s harried rambling.

     Their conversation began with Anna absorbing while sprinkling in empathetic apologies. Anna firmly decided that she would make arrangements to have everything ready at Pidge’s place at four, before Hunk woke up. The girl was much more at ease, and Anna urged her to get some sleep. She hung up and winked at Lance sweetly.

     "Babe, you are awesome!" He embraced her tenderly.

     “Thank you.” She fell back with stress lining her eyes. “Now I just gotta call the online store and urge them to express ship the flour to our door in 3 hours or less.”

     “Can they do that?”

     “If they mess this up, my dad _will_ hear about it.” Lance gulped. Mr. Komatsu _always_ knew about his warehouse’s business transactions, amongst other things.

~~~~~

     A mere 6 hours later, the sun barely hovered over Olkari Beach’s island before its rays began to warm the earth. The climate concentrated the aroma of muffins by carrying it from the truck until it reached campus. It helped the breakfast rush tremendously, as there were dozens of people lined up.

     Pidge and Hunk both badgered him about his thesis. Lance said that there would be some stuff for the faculty to go over, but that being a T.A. would also be contingent upon a solid 1-year plan. It was guaranteed that he would receive a call no later than 5 p.m. next Monday.

     He worked his ass off on that, so the news had better be good…hopefully.

     Lance returned his fixation on a muffin that was bigger than his entire hand.  "Does this thing have a name? And if not, may I suggest a name?"

     "Oh, you mean my limited editions!" Hunk grabbed his muffin back as though it was one of his own infants.

     Only Hunk could get away with hugging a giant muffin lovingly and not look like a psychopath. He was taller and larger than Lance, many people asking if he ever played football.

     But running this food truck was the only way for he and Pidge to spend their full working days. It was an idea that they dreamed the development of since high school. Together they combined their tax returns months ago to make it happen, purchasing an old truck and refurbishing it with the help of Hunk’s dad. Most of the organic ingredients were courtesy of a grant from Anna and her family’s warehouse, contingent on their unwavering success and a mere five percent cut of all profits.

     They earned a steady profit by creating comfort food favorites, but with a twist. College students and Olkari Beach’s locals made up their biggest customer base. Their most popular item was the deep-fried macaroni and cheese on a stick with mushroom sauce.  Growing in popularity were their pistachio muffins with sugar flakes and a hint of amaretto. 

     Maybe Lance should go into food journalism, he thought dryly. He could probably publish an article in a food magazine if he applied himself.

     He couldn’t have been prouder of their trio. Two entrepreneurs and a future kindergarten teacher.

     Lance thought of dubbing the giant muffins “Gruffins”. Pidge made a face and mentioned that it should have been something more adorable than that. Like “Monsterfins”. Hunk didn’t think that sounded so bad of a name but contributed with the name “Muffinities”. The three of them broke out into cackles.

     “Slower part of the day, I take it?”

     A man with deep tanned skin and sandy brown hair smiled warmly at the three, genuinely wondering what was so funny. The trio greeted him, briefly catching up on their days. His focus switched to the menu above their window, finger resting on his chin.

     “What will it be for today, Adam?” Hunk smiled.

     “You guys up for catering? We’re having a get together this weekend, our place.”

     Pidge perked up, “What’s the occasion?”

     “Takashi got promoted to deputy police chief last weekend.” Adam rested a hand on his hip and tilted his chin up smugly, “Which means that my husband gets to work alongside Olkari Beach’s chief of police!”

     “Way to go, Shiro!” Lance cried.

     “What you got in mind? Pidge hopped excitedly.

     Adam began naming off a bunch of what might be favorites of Shiro’s, keeping his picky eating habits in mind. A decent size tub of Lavender ice cream. Also, four party-sized trays of alfredo clam bake pasta, a baker’s dozen of garlic herb-infused buns, African vanilla-bean cream soda, and three trays of mixed spring vegetables. For those who had allergies, he could change the recipe accordingly.

     “Did you get all that, Hunk?” Lance smiled with an eyebrow raised.

     “Jotted down and placed in my dear diary, as always.” Hunk boasted.

     “Here, I think this should cover it.” The older man pulled out two hundred-dollar bills and placed them calmly in Hunk’s hand. “Keep the change.”

     “Thanks, Adam! We’ll start working on the menu ASAP!”

     Adam looked at his phone and tucked his hands back into his pockets. “And…last class of the summer quarter begins in 20 minutes.” He balled his fist upward and tugged down in celebration. Lance uttered a quick laugh.

     “Lance, it’s good to see you laughing it up. I was worried about you.”

     “Thanks, Adam. Spring was killer, but I think Anna and I are just about settled.”

     He eyed Lance with his glasses tilted, “Is that young lady treating you well and vice versa?”

     “You could say that and mean it.” Lance answered, swallowing back the urge to start gushing again for his friends’ sakes. A gentle chord from his phone interrupted their conversation _,_ saving him from having to divulge more about his life.

     “Gotta go run errands with my girl! Is it okay if she brings that melon-flavored wine?”

     “You better believe it!” Adam answered, then shot a look to Hunk, “I’ll make room for your truck to park in our backyard!” the man continued to march away rapidly until he morphed into a speck on the canvas of the University scene.

     Lance waved good-bye soon after, jogging happily away.

~~~~~

     Keith wished he could just will away the giant ball of brightness behind some stray cloud. Despite now sleeping 14 hours, it still wasn’t enough for him. Coolness emitting from the sheets and pillows made him want to wrap himself into an ether of comfort, with the gentle ringing of the ocean waves outside being enough to render him catatonic.

     His jeans moved suddenly, signaling that his phone needed attention. How did his phone manage to last a night without the charger hooked up to it? When the vibrations continued for more than one round, he fought with every ounce of discipline not to let it go to voice mail. That failed. A few minutes later, he trudged out of bed to grab it, and felt the pressure in his chest weaken when he saw the missed number. With a swipe and a return call function, he waited for the dial tone.

     “Hey. Yeah? No, jus’ woke up.” He rubbed his face downward, frowning and moaning wearily. “Be there soon as I can. Yeah, you too.”

     He went into his duffle bag and pulled out a short-sleeved red shirt and some black jeans. Somewhere in the bottom were some black combat boots that he could wear under the cuff of his long jeans for a more professional look.

     Once he was dressed, he waited outside for the Uber to show up while munching on a breakfast bar from his duffle. His motorbike would have treated him to a more scenic route, if it weren’t still in the Valley. This was among the longest he had waited for anything, or maybe he was worn out from rideshares and cabs. Afternoon humidity settled stickily on his arms despite being in the shade.

     An eternity later, the horn sounded, and Keith never would have guessed such a generic sound as belonging to a dual-toned, black and red Dodge Challenger.

     “Damn, that paint job is sick.” The man gushed with an eyebrow arched, lips tilted into a smirk.

~~~~~

     It took no more than 10 minutes to arrive to the police station, and Keith wished for once that traffic wasn’t so cooperative this afternoon.

     The moment he set foot inside carried him back to a memory in Balmera: 12 years old, his mother collecting him for shoplifting. With a black and purple ombre bob, a No Doubt tank top, and tight dark washed jeans, many mistook her for his mature older sister easily.

 _But the other kid dared me to do it. Why isn’t **he** in trouble?“ _Keith protested.

_“Sometimes proving you are a hot shot is what gets you in hot water. The other kid simply had more self-control than you.”_

     He could still feel the weight of her soft but stern voice cutting down his feistiness. Would she show how ashamed she was of this adult version of him, who just couldn’t stay out of trouble? His eyes squinted as he swallowed a thick cloud of anxiety mixed with annoyance.

     “May I help you?” a starched looking receptionist stared up at him with notes of austerity in her gaze.

     “I’m here to see Captain Shirogane, or Chief Kogane.”

     “Chief Kogane is currently with the mayor, and _Deputy_ Shirogane is currently in the middle of a meeting.” May I ask what it’s regarding?”

     “You see...”

     Keith exhaled upon hearing a voice with a deep pitch and medium tone, truly a sound for ears in need of comfort.

     “Shiro!”

     “He’s coming with me, Ms. Lane. Thank you.” Shiro motioned for Keith to follow him.,“it’s been a while, kid.” They gripped hands and brought each other into a tight embrace.

     “Yeah, too long.”

     Shiro still looked the same to Keith, but now showed a couple of strands of gray from stress, no doubt. His arms appeared more cut than ever, evident under a thick button-down shirt.

     Shiro led him through the corridors of desks until reaching the offset area that was the Chief’s quarters. They went in and closed the doors behind them.

     “Where’s mom? We’ve been communicating back and forth, but apparently she hasn’t come home yet.”

     “We just finished a big case. Former chief Sanda was convicted of involvement with an extorsion scheme and forced to step down. So Krolia and I have been promoted consequently.

     “Big fun, huh?”

     Shiro put a tiny plastic cup into the Keurig machine next to his desk. “Nothing I would whisper in Adam’s ear at night if that’s what you mean.”

     Keith raised a perplexed eyebrow, flinching, “Okay… not that I want to know what you _would_ whisper…”

     “Sorry, forgot Guy Code for a minute.” He mumbled, slurring revealing a lack of sleep. He offered Keith some coffee and joked about toasting to the afternoon slump. Shiro enjoyed 2 packets of sugar and two creams in his coffee. Keith: just one packet of sugar. Minutes after brewing and cups were prepared, Keith sipped. The boldness of the aroma was enough to enthrall him despite the beginnings of the afternoon lingering around.

     “This is smooth.”

     “Only the best Arabica beans from here on out.”

     “What’s the difference?”

     “Arabica is top notch. Better aroma. Do some research when you have free time.”

     Keith indulged some more and rolled his eyes. “Wow. You are bougie.” He muttered casually.

     Shiro shot a surprised look at him. “Am not!”

     The door creaked open.

     “I’m so glad you two are together.” Krolia walked in with a file, rushing to put it down and warmly greet her son. “Slept until noon?”

     “I was up 28 hours, so…” The boy’s eyes wandered meekly to the left as he stood up straight.

     “So, your circadian rhythm rivaled mine for a moment. Sanda left a ton of shit for us to comb through. Thankfully things are winding down with Shiro’s help.” She smirked at the man briefly and began shifting through the contents of her folder.

     “Using our brains worked, now we just have paperwork to tidy up.” Shiro added.

     Krolia wrinkled her nose. “Shiro, did you make coffee? It’s noon.”

     “Unfortunately, my system frowns upon hard liquor, so an extra shot of caffeine will have to do instead.” Shiro waved the coffee cup in his hand as he left.

     The woman shook her head and bit down a laugh.

     Keith smiled and looked back at his mother, dimmed eyes betraying his casual demeanor.

     “Not used to living in paradise?” Krolia said to him as more of a statement than an inquiry. “I want you to tell me _again_ in your own words what went down in Balmera.

     Keith grabbed a chair and spun it in front of her desk for him to sit. He reviewed that he noticed by his fifth paycheck that there was a questionable name for a “deduction” of $200 that did not legally exist. He went to HR for more information, then the FTC when HR was not being forward with their answers.

     A week later, Galra and their headquarters were shut down following mysterious circumstances. His roommate Acxa went missing shortly after: no contact whatsoever.  That was when Krolia interrupted their phone conversation together and told him to pack a few things and grab the quickest rideshare service out of Balmera Valley. Keith obeyed without question, knowing his mother had razor sharp instincts.

     “Krolia, are you sure about me living over there rent-free?”

     Your safety here is more of a guarantee, your job prospects…not so much. At this moment, consider how questionable Galra will look when it shows up on any background check.”

     “Okay, but I’m not one to just sit around the house and play on my phone.” Keith monitored his frustration carefully, not wanting to sound ungrateful or impatient with his limited lot.

     “Keith, you must give this time. Go see the ocean or see your friends in the meantime.”

     Her son folded his arms and leaned against her desk with his back turned. Sure, let’s find some friends solely because he’s bored, just like elementary school. That meant Keith was going to have to lay low.

     “Better yet, you can come with us to Shiro’s house and celebrate our promotions this weekend. His husband will be setting something up for us.

     “I’ll be happy to be there.” A smile melted on his face. “Wow, _my mother_ , the police chief.”

     As proud as he was of the woman who still had the purple and black hair, he had yet to shake this disconnect he felt when he interacted with Krolia these days.

~~~~~

     Despite 6:00 p.m., it was still just as bright as early noon. But thankfully not as hot. The weeks end gifted everyone with clear skies and just enough of a breeze to make the party feel like a vacation destination. There was more than enough food and drink for the intimate gathering. Electronic jazz with a vintage flavor streamed through the atmosphere. It was friends and family, just like Adam planned.

     “Where’s our other guest of honor?” Lance asked Shiro.

     “She’s bringing her plus one along and running a little bit late.”

     “Oh?! Krolia’s got a date.” Lance cooed with a smirk. “Well, this should be interesting.”

     Krolia was definitely hot, and probably twice Lance’s age. Still, she couldn’t look no older than thirty-five easily. As for her date, he imagined her being with someone handsome with a trimmed beard and a little bit of a gray mustache to go along with it. Friendly brows…

     He jumped as he felt nails digging playfully into his sides.

     Even without her mischievous way of sneaking up on him, he knew it was Anna from the understated scent of the gardenia crown lacing her hair, the one that he saw her stitching carefully together by the stems, to compliment her side swept style. She finished the look with an off the shoulder pink silk blouse and a white A-line skirt. It took her nearly an hour to try on because there were several other looks that were competing for her figure and mood. When did this beautiful college girl turn into such a stunning woman? He was one lucky man.

     “Where’d you go, daydreamer?”

     “Nothing I can say to you out loud, here…in public.” He whispered lingeringly on the last word, causing her to end her gaze with a titter and a wild blush on her cheeks.

     “Are you trying to make me love drunk, Lance McClain?”

     “Is it working?”

     She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, then excuse herself to the restroom. Gardenia lingered in his senses and his gaze followed the direction of the flower.

     “Soooo…Can we expect a marriage invitation in the near-or at least, definite future?”

     The voice made him bristle in surprise. Adam was standing next to him now with a glass of wine cradled in his palm.

      “Once everything falls into place.” Lance sighed.

     Shiro walked up to Adam and seized him lightly by his shoulder. “Can you _not_?”

     Adam threw his hands up, almost spilling his wine. “Oh, come on, Takashi! Everyone else gets to ask! Why not me?”

     “Because it _never_ ends there with you, Adam.” Shiro deadpanned.

     Lance scoffed quietly. Adam reminded him of his older sister. Genuinely happy for him and his developments, but always wanting to know what happened next in the story before the current act could finish wrapping up. It was endearing yet maddening.

     “ _Fine_ , I’ll just tell him about how you finally agreed to marry me! Lance, I proposed to him a total of six times before he finally said yes!” Adam tattled.

     “It was not six, Adam!” Shiro protested, rubbing the back of his own neck with a blush growing on his cheeks. “More like the seventh or eighth time. We were _finally_ eating at my favorite restaurant when I agreed to.

     “The _Corona Del Mar_ , I remember. You finally tricked me-I mean, _convinced_ me to take you there.” Adam smiled cheekily.

     “Damn, Shiro. What a way to test a guy’s loyalty!” Lance wailed.

     “Patience yields focus.” Shiro kissed his husband tenderly on his temple.

     Lance swooned internally. Talk about _goals_!

~~~~~

     Apparently, Shiro lived 20 minutes north from Krolia, in a house nestled in the hills. Just near enough for the house to overlook the ocean, he bet.

     After Krolia parked, Keith remained in the passenger seat for a moment while he collected himself with a few quick breaths. He swung open the door, immediately wishing that he could have just stayed snuggled in his seat belt. Social gatherings were always awkward enough without having the sheer terror of meeting old friends who were surely strangers at this point.

     “I should have called.” His voice cracked.

     “Blame me. Your arrival was kept a surprise on purpose. Shiro told Adam not to say a thing.”

     “So, everyone’ll hang me tomorrow?” Keith exhaled, breaths coming out in ripples.

     “They’re mature enough to let bygones be bygones. That is, if you all have truly been friends from the beginning.”

     The man decided to file away his excuses for not getting out. He stood up and looked in the passenger window, making sure that his medium length jet black hair was free from noticeable misshapen strands. He adjusted a button to his short sleeve burgundy button down and poured a liberal amount of small cinnamon mints in his mouth. 

     “Here goes nothing.”

     Krolia was waiting until he met her at the front door before ringing the bell. Keith looked to his left and notice the gates to the backyard slightly ajar, a rapid swinging melody spilling out. Before Krolia could take out her phone, there was Shiro, motioning them to come in.

     Keith muttered a curse under his breath. 

     They came through the gate and were greeted to a mid-sunset view of a party with a medium, yet unfamiliar family of people. Keith mentally estimated about a hundred people so far in this “intimate gathering”. Most were mingling with glasses of all sorts in their palms as they swirled their liquids around. He spotted what looked like Pidge and Hunk standing near a food truck.

     The backyard was as big as Keith’s entire Balmera apartment, with a manicured lawn and a sizable patio/dance floor in the middle with intricately designed tiles. At the very back was a gate that opened out to a path leading to a private beach, he assumed.

     “There’s the lady of the hour!” Adam motioned his glass to Krolia, meeting her by a dining table.

     The chief of police shook Adam’s hand, but the man pulled her into a tight hug to her surprise. Once releasing her, his enthusiasm simmered down to a sincere grin upon meeting Keith’s gaze.

     “Wow, you’ve gotten bigger.” Adam huffed a laugh and set down his glass of wine. “I’m sorry. I can’t get over what a grown man you’ve become! When Takashi said his little brother would be coming over, I expected someone that was still up to his shoulder!”

      “I’m glad to see that you’re the one to marry Shiro.” Keith irreverently leaned over to him and whispered, “He needed some spice in that dull ass life of his.”

      Krolia and Adam had gone off to mingle minutes later, and Keith was hoping to find a fellow introvert to show him the ropes on the art of _not_ looking like an antisocial asshole.

     “So this is a domesticated version of a party…” Keith uttered, unable to draw his five senses away from the scene before him. The same music traveled throughout the space, something with a spirit of a 1920s swing cafe. Men dressing no more casually than jeans with a blazer and loafers, while the women donned cocktail dresses. And judging by the overstock of top shelf spirits, this was mostly _Adam’s_ idea for the party. Definitely a sophisticated, grown-up shindig, Keith concluded.

     “Fancy.” He smirked as Shiro came to his side.

     “I know… we’re not that far removed from the Great Gatsby. Anything that lets him think he’s spoiling me.”

     “Is he?”

     Shiro smiled emphatically. “Look at this place! And have you tasted the food, yet?”

     Keith snorted. Hunk and Pidge earned every bit of success with their food truck. It warmed his heart knowing that Hunk remembered his lactose allergy and whipped up a special order of pasta with marinara instead of Alfredo. Both that and the vegetables were tasty and fresh.

     The bartender asked the two men for their selection. Keith decided on taking a beer, with Shiro treating himself to a White Russian.

     “What was that I was saying about you and _coffee_ earlier…” Keith’s tongue tilted mockingly on his words while he sipped, eliciting an eye roll from his brother.

~~~~~

     The last bit of dusk was beginning to fade away as the moon hung in the sky, glowing and inviting more navy undertones on life’s backdrop. Cooler air trickled into the festive area. Something about it made Lance want to move and sway with Anna until the night concluded. Two years together coming this October, and the man still suffered from pangs of pining as though they were still in their first wave of love.

     Suddenly the music transitioned to a slow summer waltz.

     “Are you up for it?” he asked her sincerely.

     She held out her hand, but changed her mind and said, “next song”. Lance moaned a little but honored her wishes and decided to go alone.

     He hypnotically moved his body with the bounciness of the instrumentals, shifting his feet smoothly and waving his arms. In this space he ignored people standing around doing nothing but chattering about the latest expensive play or fawning over how _elegant, yet resort-like_ the atmosphere was at this party. He allowed the cool of the visiting evening to kiss his face. Most importantly, he forgot himself for a change.

     Anna rose and joined him, connecting with his hip and rocking with him. “How dare you!” she uttered with a playful menace.

     The boy smiled “Afraid some other girl was going to take your place?”

     He spotted Krolia, who must have shown up with her plus one. With a fresh shot of intrigue, he moved him and Anna towards a corner on the dance floor, just to see what this silver or gray fox looked like.

     “I’m having a pretty good time.” A soft, masculine voice emitted shyly.

     Lance took one look at the owner of the voice, and his eyes widened with shock. He panicked as his heart began to knock against his chest, turning his breaths into uncomfortable ripples.

     Standing with Krolia was Keith Kogane. Krolia’s son. _Keith_.

     “Holy SHIT!” he blurted loudly, oblivious to Anna’s astonished frown.

     Keith’s mouth was frozen open in dismay, sound coming out in a helpless murmur. “Lance?”


	2. Contentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Lance’s declaration of promising to act like an adult, passive-aggressiveness was something that this guy had yet to grow out of. It made Keith’s nostrils flare. 
> 
> “You know what, Lance? You’re not the only one I haven’t kept in touch with…”
> 
> “Okay, so what happened to you?” Lance questioned, allowing his once dormant concern for Keith to override his grievances. “Did you get in some sort of trouble?”
> 
> “It’s a long story.”
> 
> “Then give me the short version:  yes, or no?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Definitely wrestled with this chapter. Had a previous version up (that did not connect with the mood or characterization), and took that down so I could post this one instead.  
> And I'm much happier with the results. :)

_([Chapter Title: Lance](https://66.media.tumblr.com/203dead20f028367b034b3d211b7a924/tumblr_pnjp8892NK1wu2uk6_1280.jpg))_

     Lance only slept for two hours total. Instead of allowing sleep to lull him into a false sense of security and comfort, he rested at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee, allowing the last traces of the early morning obscurity to bathe him before the sun curtained her light on the island.

     The view from both kitchen windows of palm trees waving to urban traffic mesmerized him in his insomniatic daze. It made more sense for him to be out there with nature, not in the quiet trying to push away thoughts of Kogane.

     A few minutes later he retreated to their bedroom and emerged wearing his spandex surfing bottoms with a long sleeve white graphic tee. He peeked in the circular mirror hanging next to the front door just to run a few finger combs through his hair. The lines under his eyes would have to wait...no fussing around with beauty rituals yet...

~~~~~

     Driving along the coast was one of his favorite things to do on the way to the ocean herself. Morning gulls played about near the decks and on top of the water, in which the final traces of early morning moonlight streamed a misty reflection on the surface. Mid-tempo music thumped gently from his car speakers as he bobbed his head.

     After an easy encounter with a free parking space, he turned off the car and went to untie the surfboard from the hood. The ocean called him and he could not wait to see what she wanted.

     Waves were mild today, but with just enough swells to make some moves.

~~~~~

     Keith sat at the kitchen island nursing a tiny headache before the sun rose. Not from the second beer he indulged in at the party, but from the not-so-happy reunion with his once-best friend.

     Of all the people here that he could have had an encounter with last night, a disappointed, jaded Lance was last on his list. He firmly massaged a temple and chugged down the last of his orange juice, trying to unsuccessfully will away the memories of that moment:

     Last night, the man embraced him, gushing about how different he looked, how much cooler he had gotten. But as the night progressed past dinner time, he became distant, and there was something barbed at the tip of his tongue as Keith found him outside the back gate sitting on a step.

_“So…it’s been a few years… Did you fall into a manhole or something? Must have been quite busy not to call or text a little more. And did you know that people still write letters in some countries?”_

     He hunched his shoulders and looked away with a dimness in his sapphire eyes.

 _“What’s in the glass?”_  Keith asked.

     “ _Vodka_.” He answered gruffly.

     With an empty glare he left Keith and took one last sip of his vodka before leaving the empty glass on an uninhabited table.

     Since when was drinking hard liquor ever a thing with Lance? And was Keith's departure that painful, that devastating? True, they were friends, but it's not like they were brothers, or even lovers at that. Clearly he had other friends to spend his time with, and time did not stop while Keith was away.

     Keith furrowed his brow and swirled around his empty glass. What more was there to talk about that night? The guy was pissed, and he himself was a piece of shit. End of discussion.

     He looked up to respond to the growing rumble outside that his ears were absorbing. The view of the ocean from his mother’s kitchen window was a marvel, like a maternal body providing respite from his recent setbacks and bad breaks. Despite the twelve hour long drive it took to get to this city between five Uber rides, he could have taken that long of a flight as it was worlds away from Balmera.

     He supposed he could get some fresh air.

~~~~~

     Sunlight had yet to saturate the landscape, but there was still a bleakness that hung obstinately in the early morning period.   

     Upon arrival, he found himself surveying the elegant spread of people as they sauntered and strutted amongst the sands. The older women appeared to preen excessively, wearing bathing suits much too fancy for a little trickle of water or other elements. Most of the men young and old were tanned and toned, sporting speedos of every color.

     Rich people really made it their mission to put on heirs. The black joggers and mid-thigh fitted red hoodie top he wore only meant to provide comfort and shelter from  the bite of seemingly subzero humidity without him being completely exposed.

     Keith put a vice grip on his thoughts as he pulled his sketch book from his cross-strap backpack and found a bench shaded from the inconvenience of the beach’s terrain.

     As soon as he put pencil to paper, all judgement melted away and he began to focus and scrutinize. Lines, shapes, shading, shadow. Within fifteen involved minutes of pencil stroking, an 8 x 11 panorama captured the subtle simplicities of human beings and nature’s bodies alike.

     The man smiled, mostly at the unsound peace emanating from his heart.

     How unfortunate that the sensation dashed away the moment he recognized an inauspiciously familiar owner of short auburn hair frolicking on a surfboard with five-foot waves. Only one person from his past took up surfing regularly as a pastime…

     The figure gathered his board the moment his feet hit dry land, coming to a resting stop with arms to his sides, gaze moving slowly towards Keith’s direction. Definitely Lance!

     Before his brain decided to dream up a nightmarish story about how this encounter would play out, he threw his sketchbook into his backpack and launched up, feet crossing towards the parking lot.

     “Rushing off kind of speedily, aren’t you my boy?” Keith noticed the stranger’s ginger mustache before anything else, but he did little more than excuse himself.

     “Sorry, can’t talk!” Keith jogged away, waving down a bus across the street and digging through his backpack for spare change.

~~~~~

     The police station was only five short minutes away getting there by bus.

     Before he could arrive indoors, his phone vibrated.

 **Unknown** : _Saw you at the beach near parking lot. This is Lance._

     He blew a heavy stream of air from his mouth and shoved his phone back into his pocket. The guy had the eye sight of a mother-fucking eagle. But who gave him his number? He gritted his teeth and marched inside.

     Ms. Lane looked up as Keith arrived three feet away from her desk and stopped him.

     “Deputy Shirogane told me to tell you there are no new developments. Both Chief and Deputy are away from their office today.”

     "For how long?" Keith persisted.

     "Didn't say."

     “Thank you.” He tightened his lips.

     “You’re welcome, Mr. Kogane.” She uttered dismissively, tilting her head back down to her work.

     What a bitch.

     Still, no news was good news, he supposed. Now for his brain to get the memo.

~~~~~

_**Keith** : who gave u my #?_

_**Unknown** : Didn’t know you finally got an Instagram_

_**Keith** : my number, Lance_

_**Unknown** : Shiro._

_**Keith** : Right…will talk 2 him later…_

_**Unknown** : We’re the ones that need to talk, I think._

_**Keith** : about what_

     Keith waited two whole minutes later for Lance to respond.

_**Unknown** : My fiancée's inviting you over tonight, if you’re not busy._

     Keith allowed the thought to bob with him until he felt ready to grasp the concept of Lance McClain being engaged. A lifetime ago, they were college kids, undergraduates who understood that big dreams had their entire lives to come true.

     A small corner in his brain became aware of the responding vibration of his phone.

_**Unknown** : and you and I probably, maybe got off on the wrong foot last night._

_**Keith** : do u want me over there_

_**Unknown** : None of this was my idea, but I’m not a monster, Keith. I know I ducked out early, and that wasn’t very big of me. I think I’m ready to act like a grown-up now._

_**Keith** : Ok, what time & address_

_**Unknown** : Come over at 7. Address is 294 Tarragon Place, Suite #600._

_**Keith** : I’ll be there. Thanks for the invitation._

_**Unknown** : Don’t mention it._

~~~~~

     Lance was ceaselessly crooning to the same first two lines to a song he heard at the party last night. Something about a man wanting to elope with the one that he loved. He always sung to himself for one of two purposes: to celebrate or to self-soothe. Tonight was a heavy dosage of the latter, yet the nervous hum in his stomach managed to simmer only a little bit.

     “It's been a while since you sung anything.” Anna noticed while arranging Mochi-covered strawberries on a plate. They were originally going to go for a strawberry cake, but opted for gelatinous rice-covered fruit after Lance made it clear that Keith once had a violent allergy to anything made with milk, lactose, etc.

     “Yep, had this song in my head for a day now. I tell ya, Adam sure knows how to arrange a party playlist.”

     Anna hummed in agreement. While pulling out some small wine glasses from the cabinet, she recapped everything that Lance told her about the "guy he used to know". How they met the summer before they entered college freshman year, becoming best friends. Keith was in school as undeclared, Lance majored in Child Development. They were always a pair, never one without the other.

     Until Lance's study abroad to Japan junior year, fall quarter. The Mullet had been unreachable all summer and soon Keith's soft spoken-ass apathy of a voice greeting got replaced by some automated bitch screening his calls and saying that he was “disconnected or no longer in service.” And so began the disappearance of Keith Kogane…

     “Listen, I understand why you set this up, but just know I can’t promise it won’t get awkward in here at times.” He ran a hand through the back of his hair.

     Lance exhaled when the doorbell sounded.

     “Sweetheart can you get that?” Anna called from the patio door.

     Her hands were busy setting finishing touches to their sitting area, so he was the one to answer the door. Must have responded to their downstairs doorman during his ruminations and invited their guest up. He massaged quick wrinkles out of his long t-shirt and smoothed his hair in the mirror hanging next to the door. Attempting to swallow down the ripples in his heartbeat, his hand managed to grip the door and open it.

     “Hi.” Keith murmured while his eyes wandered shyly to his left. He was wearing a waist length red and black leather jacket over a black T-shirt with matching jeans and boots. In his hand, a dark violet bottle of wine with an elegantly designed tag on it.

     “Hi.”  Lance bounced back, trying not to be distracted by small notes of cinnamon mingling with his friend's ocean-scented musk.

     Lance pointed to a small shoe rack resting next to the door, where guests took their shoes off before entering. Keith could hang his jacket on the coat rack next to it.

     “Anna, this is Keith Kogane, an old friend. Keith, this is my fiancée, Anna Komatsu.”

     Anna bowed to him briefly. Japanese custom, as Keith guessed from her last name.

     He was pleased to meet her, cordial as always as demonstrating by bowing back.

     "Beautiful home.

     Anna smiled and thanked him for the compliment and the wine. He followed the couple out to the patio, trailing his eyes along the pristine space that was their penthouse. Wooden table, white walls, wide open living space. It had to have been a penthouse. Much too spacious and house-like to be any kind of apartment. Did everyone in Olkari really have that much bread?

     The entrance to the patio connected to the kitchen and wrapped around all the way until one could see the second half from the expansive kitchen windows. There was a blue-blown glass patio set with a small hexagonal table where guest could set snacks and drinks down. White seat covers cushioned the chairs. From the sixth floor the air felt somewhat more...airy.

     The woman poured three glasses of gift wine, one for each of them. They kept conversation at surface level for the most part: weather and the weekend. It was mostly Anna contributing other topics. When Lance participated sporadically, Keith could detect a reservation towards him bubbling in his short responses and overly formal demeanor.

     “How did you two meet?” Keith knew it was a matter of time before curiosity would betray him.

     The woman exchanged a warm smile with Lance’s creeping blush. Anna took his hand and told Keith about how they met in Kyoto.

     During a very rainy day in September while rushing to catch a train to a seminar in Tokyo he accidently bumped into her, knocking her umbrella out of her hand. As he looked back to utter an apology his shoes slipped on a slick step, sending him down half a small flight of stairs to the ground hip-first.

     "At this point, I immediately ran my umbrella to him even though he was already soaked to the bone.” She recalled that moment with crossed arms and shaking head.

      Lance remembered the apologetic moment like it was yesterday. Uttering _gomenasai_ frantically, with sprinklings of desperate English and emergency Spanish. He felt both relieved and foolish when she started calming him down in clear-as-day English.

     “Bruised, but not broken in any way.” Lance said.

     “I let him treat me to cocoa after all was said and done and the rest was history.”

     “What about the seminar?” Keith inquired.

     “She called her driver and I trusted them both enough in that moment to get me there on time, which  they did.”

     He brought the glass of gift wine to his lips and studied Keith for a moment, "I bet that Balmera's all hot and dry, huh?"

     "Used to it." Keith folded his arms. "I grew up in the desert, remember?"

     "Right..."

     Anna asked him, "Have you ever seen the movie Matters of the Beating Heart?"

     Keith's eyes lit up.

     Anna explained that there were scenes shot west near Balmera's unspoiled desert region.

     Fascinating, Keith believed. He wasn't a movie junkie, but there was something about the movie's intricate message of redemption that resonated with him. It was about a young man who live a life of crime and decided to turn over a new leaf after a wealthy business man takes him under his wing.

     The two playfully joined in verbal tandem, quoting lines from pivotal scenes between the main character and the villain. They paused their tangent with a jovial sip of wine.

     "Hey, no spoilers, you two!" Lance interrupted them.

     "Sorry?" Keith raised a brow, "Didn't know that crime mysteries were your thing?"

     "Maybe I've grown and changed, Keith?" his half-empty glass of wine returned to his lips. 

     Anna crossed her legs and leaned back into her chair with one arm on the rest. “Honey, what was the name of that one movie you were begging me to watch the other day?”

     He whipped away from her comment, traces of defeat dotting his brow. “I…whatever!”

     But confusion marked her brows instead and she sipped her wine unassumingly.

     To appease to Lance’s wayward ego, they changed the subject to Olkari beach, with Keith questioning if this place was some sort of utopia.

     “As long as you can afford it.” Lance mentioned.

     “Well, as someone who’s been blessed to spend much of her childhood between here and Kyoto, I can say there’s no place in the world like it.” She toasted and generously guzzled her remaining serving of the wine that Keith brought them.

     “Baby, slow down a little.” Lance scolded, brow raised with an ambiguous grin.

     She set the glass down with an exhale and a growing blush. “This stuff tastes like champagne and flowers. If you ever want to get me something for my birthday...”

     All Keith could do was utter a constricted laugh. “I’m relieved you like it. Jasmine essence I think it was.”

     “Let me guess, you’re not the one who-ow!!” Lance cried out after feeling a loud pop from the pressure of Anna squeezing his hand, then rubbing it. He looked crestfallen at her, silently demanding to know "why"?

     But all the girl did was swipe a Mochi strawberry and pop it in her mouth with a nonchalant "yum."

~~~~~~

     “Can I help you guys clean up?”

     “You’re a guest. Let us handle it.” Lance spoke quickly and moved towards the door

     But as he and Anna went into the kitchen, Anna spun Lance around to face the direction he came. “I'll be taking care of things in here.”

     “But…”

     “No buts, it's just a plate and a few glasses.” She leaned near his ear and whispered, “That man is kind to show up even though he didn't have to. So please be congenial.”

     "Okay, fine!" he whined, then narrowed his eyes at her seductively with a wry grin. "But later tonight..." his lips whispered steadily into her ear.

     "Outside!" a large smudge of red painted her cheeks as she budged him playfully away. Lance looked back with a smug grin, then faced Keith reluctantly as he went back outside.

     So while Anna busied away in the kitchen, the two men remained on the patio in silence. Lance eventually rose from his spot and moved a few feet away, leaning distantly against the railing. Each time Lance thought of saying something, his willingness to make Keith suffer withered his tongue with dryness.

     “You okay?” Keith finally broke the silence with a gentle tone.

     “I’m fine.”

     Despite Lance’s declaration of promising to act like an adult, passive-aggressiveness was something that this guy had yet to grow out of. It made Keith’s nostrils flare.

     “You know what, Lance? You’re not the only one I haven’t kept in touch with…” 

     “Okay, so what happened to you?” Lance questioned, allowing his once dormant concern for Keith to override his grievances. “Did you get in some sort of trouble?”

     “It’s a long story.”

     “Then give me the short version:  yes, or no?!”

     “Alright!” The man in the mullet huffed gently. “Yes.”

     “Keith…”

     “You demanded a yes, or a no. Please don’t ask for anything else.” His voice became hard, any small crack in it would have caused his composure to crumble to ashes. The chapter before this whole Galra bullshit happened was more than he was willing to dredge up again.

     In an effort to forget himself, Keith's attention retreated to the view from their patio: All of the hustle and bustle of night-life, with hanging lanterns and pedestrians creating an eclectic tickle of chuckles and vibrant conversation. Old world buildings reminded him of something that he would find in a Mediterranean village abroad.  To top it off, Olkari’s blackening ocean lining served as a wonderful backdrop.

     Lance observed Keith calmly, simmering any worries about him right then and there. The guy would probably tell him everything about what happened in Balmera when he was good and ready.

     “Okay, be honest here.” Lance attempted to change the subject. “Did you like that stuff?” Lance whispered with a twisted squint.

     "What?"

     "The strawberry Mochi."

     ”Had ‘em before, and I’m not complaining. Not your thing?” He thought they were sweet enough. Maybe not as rich as most supermarket favorites, but that was the composition of most East Asian desserts he’s tried.

     "Really tried to like them...”

     Lance ceased speaking once the sharp slide of the patio door interrupted their conversation. Notes of lemon dish soap reached both men’s senses when she arrived.

     Night blanketed their balcony with an early navy thickness and Keith began to feel restless. It was the cosmic undercurrent of early evening that always enthralled him into a desire to ride his motorcycle or for something useful to light a spark crackling in his subconscious.

     As if reading him, Lance revealed that he wanted to go out and have some fun. Anna mentioned that the wine simmering in her system made her want to curl up into a ball and turn in early. He balked at her early bird eight-o-clock spell. But Anna insisted that he go and show Keith around this side of the island, like a home warming of sorts.

     “Would you like that?” the girl turned to Keith, who was feeling more than a little bit eager for a change of pace.

     “I don’t have any objections.” Keith smiled. In trying to gauge the purple-haired woman, he concluded that it was the jasmine wine that got her yawning and leaning back into her chair like a sated puppy.

     The temperature was beginning to fall to the upper 60s, normal for an island summer night.

     Five minutes later Lance came back wearing a dark blue leather jacket with a cotton collar. Keith wanted so badly to reach out and sample the material, which he was sure was Italian leather, smooth as butter.  

     Lance looked at Anna softly and pointed to a spot on his cheek. “Knock me one.”

     She kissed him on the cheek with a smile and walked both men to the door.

     "Have a good time. I hope you decide to stay, Keith."

     "You too." he said politely, reaching for his two year old jacket from the rack.

~~~~~

     As the elevator door closed behind them, Lance slowly apologized for his childish behavior tonight, but Keith brushed it aside with a mild grin.

     All things considered, Lance was a lot more approachable tonight at dinner, kicked back in skinny blue jeans and long-sleeve fitted tee, and without vodka choking him into a sullen rut. At least he looked every bit the part of the easygoing guy that he never stopped…

     He choked the remains of his thought down the moment their elevator doors opened.

     Six descending floors later, they arrived to the first floor lobby.

     “Hey, Mr. Komatsu!”

     Arthur the doorman waved flamboyantly. He was a young-ish man probably about Adam and Shiro’s age, short in stature, and wore a corporate haircut with a starched burgundy blazer and vest combo.  "Your wife down for the count?"

     Lance tucked his hands into his coat pockets, turning back around briefly to address their doorman. “My fiancee isn’t feeling well, so this guy and I are gonna catch a show.” He grinned at Arthur tightly, wishing he could lift him by the collar and leave him hanging on a coat rack.

     Keith could barely keep up with his hurried gait as he walked outside, not looking back.

~~~~~

     They were going to see _Matters of the Beating Heart_. In a theater where the motion picture debuted for the first time in 1936. Keith could feel anticipation in his chest blooming widely as he smiled.

     "Pretty neat, huh?" Lance mirrored his gaze with a more humble grin of his own.

     "Wow. This theater looks..." It was twice the size of most standard theaters, built with white Grecian columns upholding the foundation and trimmed with gold and white. "Time-locked" is what came to Keith's mind.  

     Back in Olkari's heyday, movies from the golden era would preview in this theatre before being released in mainstream theaters, with celebrities and actors having a red carpet moment of sorts. Olkari Beach used to be a very popular island for actors looking to find their niche in a place besides Hollywood. In fact, this place here rivaled Hollywood-produced movies until the late 80s when the economy crashed.

     Lance was the one responsible for that piece of trivia.

     "The future Mrs. and I had our first date in Olkari here."

     "This place really stood the test of time." Keith mused.

     Lance went to the window and spoke to the man there once they came inside. They greeted each other like old friends, catching each other up on the latest in their lives.

     "Hey, Coran. Can I please get two tickets for the 9:00 showing of _Matters of the Beating Heart?"_

     He was a man with ginger hair that curled at the nape of his neck, with a mustache that carried a quirkier energy than his hair.

     And it was at this moment Keith could feel the dubious comfort of deja-vu swinging in his chest. This man...

     “We met at the beach!” Keith cried.

     The quirky-looking man leaned on the counter with an absorbing stare of his own sinking into Keith. "I knew you looked familiar. The cosmos won't make young men often who look like you."

     "Umm...thank you..." he tried to conceal just how deep his modesty ran.

     “I hope whatever snatched your time back there got resolved.”

     Red clouded the man's cheeks as he remembered as childish it must have looked to Lance to just take off like that. “It did. Thanks.”

     Lance stepped up to Coran and introduced Keith as an old college friend, making them official acquaintances by the time tickets were paid for and it was time to buy popcorn.

     Despite the service of ten cashiers and associates ready to help their patrons, there was still a heavy line of an estimated twelve people. A cluster fuck of phantom numbness began to rise to Keith's throat, seizing his nasal passages and eyesight. He managed to take controlled breaths in spite of them, but nothing more could be done.

     "You think one of my dashing smiles would get us to the front of the line?" Lance side eyed with a sneaky grin as he shrugged his blazer over his torso.

     Keith forced out a "humph" and a smile. At least Lance's pitiful humor hasn't changed.

~~~~~

     There were only a few dozen other people in the auditorium, much to the relief of Keith's waning anxiety attack.  

     The two men peered intriguingly at the screen as if watching something much raved about finally being released on the big screen for the first time, a bucket of popcorn and other snacks nestled in the seat between them. For the next two hour and thirty minutes, not counting the ten minute intermission, it was an engaging, immersive viewing experience for the both of them.

     Lance's hands gripped the armrests of the chair he was in, stare somberly beholden to the black and white scene in which the main character finally fired a bullet into his long-time benefactor, watching him collapse and crash into the barren dirt below as violin music crescendo to the scene.

     Keith shot a look to his friend, resisting the fleeting urge to touch his arm for signs of emotional stability. When he could detect a blink, he returned his attention watching and waiting for the final ten minutes to an ending in which the protagonist walked away from a funeral taking place in the park, hands tucked tightly into his blazer pockets.

_The End_

     Lance uttered a "wow", voice below a weighted whisper. When the lights in the theatre rose back to a dim glow, Keith could see that he was still sitting there, brows fixated into a contemplative stupor.

     "Lance?"

     "I'm alright. Really." No loud ranting at how depressing the movie was, or even a grilling stare demanding why Keith didn't want to see something with a little more cheer. Instead he rose from his spot, waiting for Keith to take it upon himself to gather their trash in the giant popcorn bin, and walked slowly outside into the main lobby.

~~~~~

     Lance shot a goodnight to Coran, and Coran wished them both a great rest of the week.

     "Next time you come back, Mr. Kogane, I'll give you a special VIP discount."

     "Thanks, Coran. Looking forward to it." The raven-haired boy smiled.

     Keith worked to process little things once they returned to the sweet and salty air of the surrounding uptown community, mostly to shake off the post movie numbness perched in his brain. The air began to chip at his arms, so at eleven thirty in the evening, he found his jacket attached to his torso for a little bit longer.

     "So.. _.Matters of the Beating Heart_...You sure have a repertoire, don't you?"

     "Like I said, didn't think this was your type of thing." Keith stated plainly.

     "It's not that. I didn't dislike it." he cracked his knuckles above his head, sneaking glances around him to see if anyone noticed such an ungentlemanly habit. "Thought-provoking would probably be my word of choice for tonight’s feature."

     Keith waxed poetic about the protagonist and his undying willingness to be the best human he could be despite society's expectations for his failure, given his past. Lance mused on the benefactor's death and how loyalty could be a gem that was of stronger value than monetary wealth.

     They both knew that while Lance could immersed into a serious movie, that he generally liked to watch anything that was filled with hope, energy and a happy ending. Maybe he matured more than was evident to Keith...

     "Look, I'd ask if you'd want to grab a bite, but that was a ginormous bucket of popcorn we finished off between the two of us." Lance said.

     A frowning pout curved to Keith's lips. "Dude, you finished the second half of the bucket!"

     "Is that why you hogged up the gummies?!" Lance pointed his nose toward him with indignant hands on his hips.

     "Why did you only buy one box?!"

     "I don't fucking know!" Lance threw up his arms.

     The two men knocked glares, which dismantled into understated chuckles, their old dynamic returning to them like a muscle relaxant, or salt water washing away seaweed from the tides.

~~~~~

     They arrived back to the sixth floor penthouse, and Keith agreed with Lance that it was time for them to call it a night.

     "Wanna exchange numbers or something?" Lance petitioned like a junior high kid setting up a playdate.

     "If you want to." Keith's indigo eyes reflected the same uncertainty that his pure blues were conveying to him.

     "Hold on a second...you should already have it from when I texted you earlier." Lance announced with an "aha" lilt.

     "About why I ran away like that..." Keith folded his arms tightly in front of his chest, praying that he appeared at most perplexed rather than incredibly foolish.

     "You don't have to tell me. It's because you're weird. You always have been and always will be." Teasing, but not mocking.

     "Whatever!" he snickered.

     A female voice with an airy, sleep dusted pitch called Lance's name. Time to say goodnight.

     "Thanks for tonight, Lance…” he tilted his head down to look at him from the corner of his lids. “Felt like old times."

     "It did." Lance rested into a grateful smile, cobalt eyes fading into friendly azure. Keith returned the smile before turning and starting away.

     "Hey, Keith. Don't know how long you'll be here but...don't be a stranger, alright?" He hooked his hand into his, then released it with something papery brushing smoothly against Keith's palm.

     He looked at it and swallowed.

     "Lance, I can't-"

     "Are you really gonna stand there and give that back to me?" His friend challenged, deep blue eyes simmering in determination.

     There were five hundred dollar bills stacked and folded neatly into themselves. Keith mentally attempted to make his pride more palatable by stuffing them into the recesses of his front pants pocket. He was not going to win this argument, especially knowing it would be a while before returning to Balmera Valley.

     “Thank you.”

     "Be safe getting back home, okay?"

     "I promise."

     Keith gave himself a mental reminder to replace "unknown" with "Lance" in his phone.

~~~~~

     By midnight, Lance's anger with Keith had long dissolved into a nagging uneasiness for his old friend.

     Lance probably should have dropped Keith off at Krolia's house rather than have him waiting at the downstairs lobby for a rideshare. The guy probably didn't have a damn thing to spend out here on anything but transportation. Surely Keith had something he needed that a mother would not be able to provide.

     Lance remembered his mother back in Varadero providing room, board, and meals for he and Anna until their brand new Olkari penthouse was ready. It was a great way for Anna to be immersed into their family, and everyone loved her as much as she loved them. Not everyone could be as humble as he himself could be.

     A place like Olkari Beach was for those who owned their own businesses or who were comfortable enough within themselves to live the lifestyle of a nomad or whatever. None of those suited Keith. And Keith's reluctant answer to Lance confirmed somewhere in the twist of Lance's gut that there was something sinister going on in his part of the world, a part where he could no longer cross over and touch without opening up something that must have hurt deeply.

_“You demanded a yes, or a no. Please don’t ask for anything else.”_

     One thing that never changed was Keith's habit of pushing away calamities as if they could tumble on his head and cause irreversible damage.

     Hopefully that money he gave him from his own allowance would provide the means for the man to sew whatever rip there was in the fabric of his own life, until one day when Lance would be allowed to take the thread from what he couldn't contain and start anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm active from time to time:
> 
> tealrainbeau.deviantart.com
> 
> ♡ Have a wonderful week!


	3. Fulfillment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kogane. Keith Kogane." Lance answered on his behalf.
> 
> Keith narrowed his eyes at the man, but softened them at Allura's approach. "Pleased to meet you." he shook the woman's delicate hand, which possessed a firm grip.
> 
> While conversation carried into the front door, Keith unwittingly took another moment to absorb the mansion's architecture. Something about the brickwork seemed to come from an era that had long passed. Or maybe it was something like nostalgia climbing forth from his spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a wonderful week!

( _[Chapter Title Allura](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7205cb7eb8ed6b0905142d4fd89fb011/tumblr_pq2mgeJh5B1wu2uk6_1280.jpg))_

     "If you keep fidgeting like that, I may have to put you to work in our corrections department filing paperwork."

     "I've been trying to sketch this room for ten minutes, and I'm not getting it..."

     The deputy looked around his office, probably trying to find something remotely interesting about what Keith found art worthy. "You want to sketch my office?" he raised an eyebrow.

     Shiro turned around, lighting his attention towards his younger brother. "Keith...what skills have you built up in your repertoire since I saw you last?"

     Again with that word... _repertoire._

    The younger man stopped to take survey, "Bargaining, stocking, lifting…”

     “And?”

     “I do _this_ every now and then." he admitted reluctantly with a random swipe of his pencil.

     "Okay, so maybe you can use _that_ towards architecture or depicting courtroom drama?" The man folded his arms with a look that bore into Keith's inner child like a patient, but firm guidance counselor.

     "Never occurred to me. Drawing has always been this coping mechanism to gain distance and perspective..."

     Shiro sighed and rested next to him on the desk . "Just don't let that mechanism become a permanent escape. You're a free man now. Remember that side of you that has always taken something far when you're passionate enough about it, for better or worse.  I believe in you."

     Keith swallowed the notion of tears as his older brother rested his hand on his shoulder.

 _"Sir, Deputy Shirogane is busy."_ Around the corner, Ms. Lane's strict delivery sounded unusually harried.

     A voice with a low pitch and tone barked: _"No shit! He'd better be busy **at his place of work**."_

     Both Keith and Shiro allowed the sudden verbal commotion from outside to draw their attention around the corner leading back to the main office areas. Adam was making his way toward his office, leaving Ms. Lane in the middle of the desk corridors with a crestfallen slump and a sheepish side-eye. Shiro decided to rush to the main area before his husband could come and do God-knows-what.

     "Get in here." With a bite of authority, Shiro motioned for him to follow him.

     After escorting him inside his office, Shiro closed the door behind Adam a little louder than usual, though without the force to qualify as a slam.

     "Why are you harassing Ms. Lane?"

     "Ms. Lane was being a, how should I say... _hard_ _ass_. Her demeanor’s off-putting. Wouldn’t want _her_ being the first person visitors see at _my_ precinct."

     His husband turned and acknowledged Keith with a hello and a deceptively innocent smile. He wore clear contacts today, choosing to leave his usual prescription glasses at home.

     "Your voice sounded urgent. What's the matter?" Shiro crossed his arms patiently. 

     "No emergency, sweetheart. Just had to see you. I got bored." he shrugged, swiping water from the cooler and sipping.

     With a look of suppressed annoyance, he glanced a side eye at Keith. The glint signaled that the husbands needed to be alone for a few minutes. He managed a sheepish wave to Adam and scurried towards the door, closing it behind him.

     For some reason, curiosity got the better of him as he allowed himself to absorb their conversation that seeped from the pores of the wall.

 _"Since when do you just show up without a phone call? And by harrassing the front desk clerk?_ He heard Shiro whisper loudly.

_“Takashi, I woke up at three in the morning and you were gone! No kiss, no good morning , no nothing from you.”_

_“You know I'm deputy now, Adam! Sometimes the station has to come first. Didn't we have this discussion?”_

_"No. Not at all, actually. Not since your promotion.”_ Adam bit back with composure.

     Silence.

     “ _I_ …” Shiro began tenderly.

_“But I should have been able to figure it out anyway. When you were detective, it was hectic then, running here and there, responding to summons. I'm sorry. With all this time I have off until mid-September, I guess I got needy.”_

     Keith's eyes dimmed, having already listened to more than he should have.

_“Baby, I’m so sorry. Life’s really been moving rapidly lately, hasn't it?”_

_"We just gotta catch each other up again, that's all. Better do it before we're old and bitter about it_

     Keith smiled warmly. Maybe true love was only messy without complete communication and understanding of one another. At least that's how these two made it look.

     The two men exchanged I love you's, followed by a pregnant pause.

     Keith jumped as he recognized the rude thump of a body slamming gently against the door inches from where he stood on the other side. Whispers and kisses following after.

     Keith cleared his throat and walked away with an embarrassed blemish spreading to his cheeks. So much for today at the precinct.

     "Hey, you!"

     An officer stopped him, then stared into his eyes with an inquisitive whisper. "What are they talking about in there?"

     "Umm...don't know. It's classified I guess." Keith nonchalantly broke away from the man's stare.

~~~~~

 ** _Shiro:_ ** _Sorry about that, saw that you left._

 ** _Keith:_ ** _i might not have left right away..._

 ** _Keith:_ ** _thought I would have the opportunity to come back so I waited outside your door._

 **_Shiro:_ ** _How much should I pay you to keep quiet?_

 **_Keith:_ ** _not gonna tattle to Krolia if thats what you mean._

 **_Keith:_ ** _didn't stay long enough to hear all of that noise..._

 **_Shiro:_ ** _;_ ;_

 **_Shiro:_ ** _I sincerely hope none of the members of the beat were nearby._

 **_Keith:_ ** _told one guy "classified info" was being discussed_

 **_Keith:_ ** _by the way, you can find a way to transfer my motorcycle from Balmera and I'll forget about you blowing me off. ;)_

 **_Shiro:_ ** _Deal._

~~~~~

     Shiro didn't text back after that. The day must have finally picked up for him.

     Another day in the shade of summer. And Keith didn't mind. The crispness of the sea air was enough for him and  his usual place on the bench where he sat in his shades, red sleeveless hoodie, long shorts, and black sneakers.

     "Keith, my boy!"

     It was Coran from the theatre, dressed in a very old fashioned bathing suit with orange and white stripes, and short sleeves and legs.

     "Hi, Coran." and that's all he cared to say. For some reason, socializing was not on his list of priorities. Usually, it never was anyway.

     "Well I'm going to see if I can go deep diving. Got my snorkel and my mask here...maybe I'll get lucky and come across a sea star. I'll bid you farewell for the day."

     Keith waved and wished him good luck.

     With his book still stowed away in his bag, he meditated on the talk he had with Shiro minutes ago about possibly taking his art to the next level and making a career out of it. Doing _what?_ Every artist had some digital medium in tandem with social media. What about his work was anything original? Just a book of landscapes and at times…abstract sketches. From time to time the proverbial snake hissed in his ear: _find something to do._

      "Hey!"

     The figure he ran from last week was jogging towards him happily with his surfboard, fresh from the ocean’s waves.

     "Hi, Lance." He pulled off a wry smile.

     The surfer rested a hand on his hip, curiously eyeing Keith's covered head and gravity-challenged stare. "I swear, man. We're gonna have to get you out into the sun somehow."

     "I'm comfortable right here." Keith met his look with a stubborn glare of his own, then yawned.

     When Keith didn't budge, he stepped over in the shade next to him and sat. "No yawning! It's only eight-ish."

     "You done for the day?" Keith tilted his head to give him his full attention.

     The surfer stifled a yawn of his own. "Maybe. Gotta admit, it's cozy here. I can see why _you_ might burn into sparkles once you come out."

     He raised a brow at that. "What are you implying?"

     "Don't you remember watching _Twilight_ with me? It's a reference to you being an undead creature."

     Keith searched the catalog of his mind for all the hyperactive or cheesy movies that Lance had made him sit and watch in the past. Yep, _that_ one resonated, unfortunately.

     "How can you thrive in so much sunshine? It's so direct!"

     "Been sun kissed for twenty four years, baby. The sun and I have a mutual understanding."

     Against his better restraint, Keith giggled at that metaphor.

     "Okay, I at least got you to smile. That's progress for me. Next time, we're gonna get you some Vitamin C."

     "You sound like a rhyme from a book I had when I was five." Keith deadpanned, not about to give Lance the satisfaction of a belly laugh.

     "I _did_ rhyme, huh?" Lance hung his head in humor. He swore he could detect a stray dimple caving in on the other man's cheeks from that.  "Okay, maybe I can get you some vitamins in a jar?"

     "I don't need supplements."

     "Not that type of jar, Keith."

~~~~~

     Lance took them to a small hut that was flourishing with nautical palms and was just a few minutes walk away from the main beach.  

     What he meant by "jar" was a 24 oz. mason jar containing mixed fruit drinks from scratch. The juice stand that served them was owned by a native Olkarian who brought fresh fruit from his farm and created a colorful lava lamp-like concoction with a droplet of a chemical that was proven organic and safe to ingest.

     "Will I turn into a unicorn?" Keith made a face at his watermelon concoction that looked like a glowing lava lamp.

     "In your case, a unicorn that sucks blood." Lance joked. "I added a Vitamin C shot, hope that's alright with you."

     "I guess it is."

     When the man sipped, something washed deeply inside of his ribs and tingled with refreshment. Not too sweet, not too bland.

     "It's good, right?" Lance knew the Mullet could embrace beach culture in some way despite looking like a pitiful rendition of Red Riding Hood. He lifted his glass with a sincere smile, waiting for Keith to follow suit.

     "Here's to life, love, and the pursuit of our hearts desires."

     "I'll drink to that."

     They clinked glasses and sipped from their straws.

     Lance picked up his phone after the chime sounded.

 **_Anna <3: _ ** _Get ready in an hour, we're going to Allura's <3\. Guests allowed._

 **_Anna <3:_ ** _She has a pool...bought a new suit ;)_

     "Wanna see, like, a _really_ beautiful mansion with us?" Lance smirked in delight, trying to wash down his enthusiasm for the second part of her text. "It belongs to one of Anna's friends, who's a doctor and is, like, really generationally wealthy.

     "Who's going?"

     He texted her back, and she replied shortly.

     "The old gang." he said. "You can wear what you have on, just put on some swim trunks underneath."

     "You mean I can't swim in the nude?" Keith teased sarcastically, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded.

     "Don't make me spill my drink on you!"

~~~~~

     "We all packed? Got our essentials?" Lance rushed around to make sure everyone was comfortable and tucked in before getting ready to take off. The last stop they made before hitting the road was at Hunk and Pidge's apartment. Keith hung out with Hunk and Pidge in the backseat, while Anna rested in the passenger seat.

     "Okay, so how does this work as far as guests?" Hunk asked Lance.

     "Well...I'm Anna's plus one, Keith is my plus one... and Allura wanted to see you two anyway..."

     "I guess the math adds up." Pidge noted flatly.

     "It should be about an hour drive from here." Anna scrolled her phone to the GPS, rubbing her temples. "Wished I grabbed my glasses..."

     "Will these do?" Lance teased her, giving her a case etched with her name in Japanese Kanji.

     "Ugh! Thanks!" she rolled her eyes in relief and put the narrow specks on.

      With her long plum hair tied in a level ponytail with a short ribbon, Lance imagined her as a really cute librarian.

     "Okay, take the main roads until you get to the canyon, and then follow from there."

     "But isn't it quicker to just take the freeway?" Lance asked while looking at his own GPS.

     "No scenic route?"

     "I mean...it it's not too much for everyone else?"

     A chorus of non-imposition from the backseat was his clarification.

     Lance smirked suddenly, a glint of fire in his eye. On long stretches of canyon road, he could drive the way he was _meant_ to drive...

     "Seatbelts!"

     "Just watch the road, speed demon." Keith said.

     "I've been driving for eight years, Keith. Just let me do me." he shot back as he took the car out of "park".

     "Just don't do the rest of us in by _doing you_ , Lance." Pidge spoke up with trepidation dipping into her brows.

     "Don't worry, Pidge. Why do you think I chose a drop top for this little outing?"

~~~~~

     Keith was a self-titled speed demon on a motorbike.

     That title also went to Lance in any vehicle with four wheels. 

     The hour was thrilling. It felt just like the good old days when the Cuban man used to speed drive cross country on road trips back in college. Keith would have begged him to go even faster as the wind combed through his thick medium hair.

     In this moment, the wind tugged at his ponytail as they passed through the emptiness of the canyon, as if begging him to let his hair loose.

     Poor Hunk hated changes in velocity. And if he wasn't gripping poor Pidge's arm like a safety device, he probably would have been opening the door and doing a tuck and roll at this point.

     "Hunk!" Keith reached behind Pidge's head and patted his shoulder. "Breathe.”

     Hunk uttered over and over that he was okay and noticed a flock of seagulls flying over the guard rails, completely forgetting what he was told. He squeezed Keith's hand until the kinks were out, much to Keith's pained horror and utter disappointment in himself.

     Anna brushed her slender fingers against Lance's neck, and whispered something with a gentle look simmering like sunlight in her eyes, glancing at the larger man's panicked face. He graced her with a mild grin and began to slow down about ten miles.

     "You better, Hunk?" Lance spoke.

     "Yeah. I'm good now."

     "Good."

     She mouthed a "thank you" to Lance, who took her hand and kissed it softly.

     Pidge remained on her phone as a distraction of sorts. Hunk, who was starting to breathe like a normal human being again, smiled fondly at the two of them. But Keith wore a sullen pout towards his window as he tucked away his throbbing hand.

~~~~~

     The GPS lead the group to a place that was miles away from any body of water, and surrounded by a long stretch of land. Houses were yards away from each other, and provided respective privacy for each resident. There were a plethora of palm trees planted by each house, in addition to an owner’s shrubbery of choice. Playful tunes of exotic birds joined in with the wind's gentle whisper.

     There was a old Terracotta path that followed until the car rested in front of two cherry wood colored garage doors. Multiple species of palms were planted alongside the pathways and in front of the mansion, families of bushes surrounding them. The mansion itself looked as though it were made with old money, with deep orange and pink hued panels, arched-shaped window panes and multicolored cobblestone roofs. A spiral staircase began at the center floor of the house and led up to the second floor entrance. 

     "We've arrived, _compadres_."

     Everyone except Anna left the car, who waited for her man to come around and open her door.

     Pidge looked at the estate and blew a whistle that conveyed "impressed".

     "She couldn't possibly live alone..." Hunk rested his chin against his fist.

     "We'd be working for the rest of our lives towards owning something like that." Pidge responded with an eyebrow raise. "Okay, maybe about a quarter of our lives if things continue to go well for us."

     Just when Keith thought he had seen all that wealth could afford in Olkari, he remembered that mansions were the most quintessential. Not to mention incredibly cliched as a concept. But this place looked like it was filled with history and character. His head remained tilted upward at the marvel before him, arms folded against him as if pacing himself for what there was to see inside.

     "Why hello there!" a chipper British accented voice called out.

     "Allura!" Anna skipped forward like an adolescent girl as she embraced a woman who had dark earth-toned skin and starlight-shaded hair that fell gracefully to her lower back. They exchanged French styled smooches and emoted compliments such as "I miss you" and "you look fabulous", forgetting the rest of those outside of their circle.

     Anna broke apart with an apologetic smile and introduced her fiancé.

     "So, Anna finally got you both beyond pictures and video chat." she cooed slyly.

     "Oh, well...you know me..." he touched the back of his head with a blush swimming to his cheeks.

     "Oh, well...not really." Pidge mocked.

     "Pidge, I thought I heard you back there..." Allura smirked. The two women hugged, followed by Hunk who nearly picked the woman up off the ground in the midst of his not knowing his own strength. Cackles rose from the witnesses of such a precious sight.

     "And hello, Mister..."

     "Kogane. Keith Kogane." Lance answered on his behalf. 

     Keith narrowed his eyes at the man, but softened them at Allura's approach. "Pleased to meet you." he shook the woman's delicate hand, which possessed a firm grip.

     While conversation carried into the front door, Keith unwittingly took another moment to absorb the mansion's architecture. Something about the brickwork seemed to come from an era that had long passed. Or maybe it was something like nostalgia climbing forth from his spirit.

     There were questions he wanted to ask Allura later, if she had the time. But for now, he relished the plan of making another sketch for his book.

     "I almost shut the door on you, is everything alright?" Allura eyed him anxiously.

     "Yeah, sorry about that." he stared out the corners of his eyes at a random bush beside him, and continued up the spiral case where the house's entrance was.

~~~~~

     Lance, Hunk, and Pidge hung out in the pool, mostly taking refuge around the grotto.

     Anna, Allura, and Keith preferred to lounge in the resting area under the awning. It was a restful set up elevated and seated with a few comfortable couches, some chaise lounges, numerous colorful throw pillows, and a table set up with tea.

     The girls chattered about random topics that Keith showed no interest in, except to answer a question directed at him. He preferred instead to sketch the backyard in it's entirety, eyes fixated on the distant mountain and trees.

     "I kept wondering why your last name was ringing a bell, are you by any chance related to Chief Krolia Kogane?" Allura tilted her head inquisitively.

     "She's my mother." Keith answered humbly.

     “Your genes are uncanny.”

      It was something Keith had heard many times before, since he could remember. That his medium, thick hair and indigo shaded eyes could only have come from her. People only tended to notice the exotic. But as Keith matured further into manhood, comments on his fathers cheekbones, his good natured, crooked smile and his sensitive nature; mostly from his own mother.

     "When you see her again, please give her my regards. I couldn't be prouder of having her serve and protect. Shiro as well. They make a great team."

     "I'll be happy to tell them." Keith smiled.

     "Lance was asking how long this estate has been around." Anna said. "Hasn't it been for centuries?"

     "Since 1820, I believe. My great grandfather owned the land, and drew up plans for the foundation of the home. A lot of history has come from here.”

     "I can imagine." Keith mused.

     "Not all good in the main scheme of it all."

     Keith set down his pencil to satisfy his curiosity. "Meaning what?"

     Allura explained that the native Olkarians were an indigenous race who owned the island before sea fairing foreigners from other continents visited one day. These foreigners traded language and textiles for the rich agricultural climate, thus the economy boomed over time and business generally thrived since the 1800s.

     "My family built this home as a safe keep for those Olkari who felt that their needs were not being heard. We pretty much stayed here in order to help them preserve their way of life, without interference from settlers. He and my ancestors before him were activists and historians."

     "Sounds like a honorable way to live." Keith folded his arms, wanting to listen to more of this history lesson. He remembered the Olkarian gentleman and his juice stand, how farm fresh and earthy a watermelon juice could settle on ones tongue.

     Allura continued. "What I mean by _not all of good_ is that there has been discord in the past. Especially during the crash of 1920 when agriculture was suffering due mostly to extreme weather patterns. Businessmen wanted more than the Olkari were willing to give at one point, and some "bullying" took place…entitlement mentalities do that…"

     "Every moment in history has it's dark stains." Anna uttered cryptically.

     "But for the most part, we've lived in harmony. The Olkari have welcomed us and we as a nation have treated it's indigenous population with mutual respect.” Allura smiled warmly. 

     "Lance tells me you're a doctor?" Keith thought she looked young enough to have just finished her residency. 

     "I am. I graduated from Olkari University at the top of my class. Most of my clients are wealthy, but many Olkarions come in for free treatment, no questions asked. I split my time between the University's medical center and the downtown clinic."

     'I knew back when we were prep school girls that you were going to do great things." Anna gushed subtly while playing with strands of her hair. 

~~~~~

     Mid noon sunlight was tepid. But a breeze started up promptly to offset the rising humidity.

     "Whatcha drawing?" Anna peaked over.

     The man shut his book in response to her question, drawing an apology from her lips as she looked away promptly. Guilt crept to his abdomen.

     "It's a mountain." he spoke tight-lipped.

     "Oh." 

     He looked at her again, developing a perverse need for her to ask him more about the drawing, and what else he had put to paper. Out of his character, he folded his book to the incomplete page and passed it over to the Komatsu girl.

     “No way.” She frowned, tilting the book as if what was on page was an optical illusion.

     Allura glanced with permissive eyes. Keith gave her the go ahead to look. "You sketched this just now? It looks like it took you at least an hour..."

     "I was planning to finish the trees and the surrounding area today." he folded his arms tightly to his chest, eyes narrowing timidly.

     "This is impressive." Anna mooned.

     "Thanks, I guess." his face warmed.

     "Why so modest?" Allura asked him not as an counterargument, but as a consolation.

     "Hey ladies!" Pidge called. "Stop being so prissy over there and join us!" She breast stroked backwards with a taunting glower.

     "And give up this luscious shade? I think not." Allura flipped on her sunglasses.

     All Anna did was hum in agreement and cross her legs, leaning back in her chair while passing Keith's sketchbook  back to him.

     "Keith?" Lance leaned over the edge of the pool on one shoulder.

     "Not gonna happen." he muttered with his eyes returning to his work.

     "Looks like we'll have to retrieve these vampire princesses from their tower...you game, Pidgeon? Hunk?" A naughty smirk spread to Lance's lips.

     Keith looked up fast enough to quickly secure his book behind a pillow as the three were out of the pool, marching tauntingly towards the large awning.

     "You touch me, and you'll be floating permanently!" he stayed in his spot with a fist balled.

     “Geez, man. No need for premeditated murder!” Lance flinched.

     "You'd better not!" Allura pointed, backing up with a flash of apprehension in her eyes."

     Anna just backed away and hid behind her lounge, shaking her head rapidly with her lips pursed and pupils slightly shrunken.

     Lance understood. Swimming pools, oceans, a _huge_ no no.

    "Seize them!" Pidge cried.

     Both girls cried out as they took a running start towards one of the glass doors. But while Pidge and Lance sprinted after the screaming women, Hunk took a chair across from Keith.

     "What you up to?" the larger guy asked.

     "Just..." he distracted himself from Hunk momentarily to witness the girls having barricaded themselves indoors. Pidge and Lance were crowding in front of the glass, trying to convince the two women to let them in.

     "I see some food!" Pidge gawked.

     "Where?!" Lance squawked. 

     Hunk followed Keith's focus as both women came to the glass' reflection, tauntingly biting into what looked like sandwiches.

     "So _that's_ the hand you're gonna play?!" Lance bounced his hands on his hips with his back squared. Pidge motioned for an alternate entrance and the two began to sneak around the back way, smiling like two gremlins.

     Hunk shook his head. Keith read his deadened expression: _These overgrown children._

     "What you think of all of this opulence, huh?" Hunk looked at Keith.

     "It's nice." his eyes wandered into a gaze that probably told Hunk that he was not being completely honest.

     "It could swallow you if you don't know how to handle it." He smiled dubiously. "The whole wealth and having a lot of money aspect of it all."

     Keith hummed in response. Then Lance crossed his mind.

     "Never seen him happier..." Keith said. "Anna's a very lucky woman.  I hope she truly realizes that."

     "Yeah..." Hunk blew a slow, heavy breath from his lips.

     "What's on your mind?"

     "Not to speak for anybody, but I'm worried about him." Hunk lowered his head in contemplation.

     Keith looked up to him. "Why?"

     Hunk hushed. "I get scared that its gonna get to his head, make him think he's invincible. I just hate the crap that other's speak about him when they think he's not listening. They say he's being a gold digger or that Anna is "buying his love" or whatever."

     Keith's nerves began to sizzle. “Who’s saying that?! Strangers?"

     "Locals, inner circle people. Don’t know if it affects him… But it hurts me to see someone that I've known since freshman year of high school being labeled as something that we all know in our heart of hearts that he's not."

     Keith took a moment of silence, the mellow sound of the grotto's waterfall rushing in his ears.

     "Don't get me wrong. I think Anna is a real class act, but she's always had a silver spoon in her mouth. Lance is basically living in a fantasy on earth that a lot of people don’t get to experience. And if those two are gonna tie the knot..." he hung his head again, this time clasping his hands tightly. "It really should be for richer or poorer."

     "You're right. Money isn't always the end all to be all." Keith swallowed

     "But a little make things a helluva lot easier.” Hunk sighed.

     "You're telling me."

     Both men exhaled, responding to the verbal invitation of lunch inside.

~~~~~

     Allura's butler finally let the two troublemakers in after they stood off for a stubborn ten minutes. And after they both promised not to dunk the women in the large body of water.

     "Nice spread." Pidge's eyes widened at the array of sandwiches and chips available.

     Keith witnessed Lance embracing his fiancée warmly as the woman smiled coyly, and Hunk's word rang in his head. Lance was a big boy who could handle himself...there was no need for any over-protectiveness. So when he imagined any setbacks coming to him, it was enough to concentrate his heart with dread. But that was none of his business, right?

     Rather than take advantage of Allura's butler to make him a sandwich, he grabbed an already made plate. Kettle chips, and a sandwich with sautéed mushrooms, turkey, mayonnaise, and some yellow sauce that didn't smell like mustard... He removed the Swiss cheese that was on top.

     He bit into it, and his eyes probably flickered as he grunted. Another larger bite followed.

     Lance's loud snicker interrupted his session.

    "What?" Allura was the only one not paying attention enough to this man to stifle laughter and smiles.

     "Keith's over here having a foodgasm." Lance wailed.

     "What sauce is this?" Keith demanded in bliss.

     Reinhardt, her butler spoke up. "That's aioli."

 _"_ Wait, what were the mushrooms fried in?"

     "Olive oil."

     He sighed. Thank God. And a double for aioli being an ingredient used in most vegan dishes, which meant also dairy-free.

~~~~~

     For the next few hours between lunch and hanging out, Keith finally decided to strip and take a swim. He scowled with a flush at Lance and Pidge who playfully cat called him and whistled, provoking Hunk, Allura, and Anna to spirited chuckles.

     When he came back to the awning area a mere ten minutes later he checked his phone and was seized with panic upon seeing his mother‘s texts.

 **_Mom:_ ** _Keith, please come to the police station as soon as possible. I have something important that needs your attention ._

 **_Mom:_ ** _There's been a new development in the Balmera case._

 **_Mom:_ ** _Keith, when you finally check your phone, know that its imperative that you come to the station as soon as possible._

     “Shit!” He shoved his phone back in his bag and began using a dry towel to dry off.

     Lance walked over to him, "You okay, man?"

     "I have to go. Krolia just summoned me to the police department." He started to gather his stuff and got ready to leave promptly. Lance followed him.

     "Can I drive you?"

     "No, Lance. I'll take a ride share."

     "No way! That's a long ways away."

     "Seriously, stay here and have fun. Tell everyone I said bye and that I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. "

     As Keith rapidly got on the phone for a ride share, Lance decided to temper his need to intervene without being needed.

     He still said a prayer for him.

 ~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just posted part 1 of "Shadows Of Behemoth Hill", a brief 2-pt Voltron canon divergent story, so please check it out 😎


	4. Blitheness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Good evening, Lance." Krolia's voice carried notes of displeasure, and the familiar dots of worry.
> 
> "Krolia, what's up?"
> 
> "Do you happen to know where a certain dark haired young man is? About your height, two inches taller maybe, wears leather jackets and has NOT been answering his phone at all?! They say he has my scowl...”
> 
> Lance inhaled before spilling the truth to her. "Umm..."
> 
> "Lance, just so we're clear: You will be charged for aiding and abetting him if you don't tell me what you know."
> 
> “What’s the meaning of this? Is he in trouble?” Krolia's law enforcement voice stirred wasps in his stomach.
> 
> “In a matter of speaking…now tell me, where did he go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~Trigger Warning for Physical Abuse and for minor character deaths!~~~

_[Chapter title: Lance x Anna](https://66.media.tumblr.com/0abd57437e859f60c6939a624bbb3fd7/tumblr_pq4addWQWh1wu2uk6_1280.jpg) _

 

     Keith was surprised to see the empty desk of Ms. Lane. At six o clock, the woman's time must have been up for the day.

If there wasn't anything else that shook him for a loop, it was an eerie dread washing against the inner walls where his nerves trembled a little. Something happened. And it was not good.

      "Keith." Krolia met her son with a somber expression.

      Mom, what did you discover?" his eyebrows tilted outward.

      "Follow me."

      With every knock of her steps, his stomach turned. They arrived to her Chief's quarters, where she had photos of all standard film colors strewn haphazardly across her desk. She gathered them before Keith could get a closer look at the subjects.

      He reluctantly pulled a chair and sat down.

      The woman sighed discreetly and crossed her arms with her eyes frozen in suppressed sadness.

      "BPD sent me photos that suggest certain people of interest. I'm not one hundred percent sure how these people fit in the big picture; that remaining percentage involves you being able to correctly identify the persons in these photos."

      Keith sat up with trepidation simmering in his bones.

      "Keith, what I'm about to show you is graphic. Do you understand?"

      "Alright, I understand. Let me have a look."

      With a deep breath, she opened the first manila envelope. A man with medium length blonde hair, slightly sunken eyes, and a five o clock shadow where strips of a goatee were growing. Once-mellow eyes stripped of soul and spirit. His head had been pierced open, crimson staining his face with more blood spilled out in dark patches sparkling the crevices of the concrete.

      Keith swallowed back a growing lump. "This was Rolo. He was my ex." He ran out of pitch and tone, the last few words sliding out hoarsely. He tossed the gruesome photo back on the desk.

      "Rolo DeMartin, age 26. Resided in Balmera Valley. Killed by what looks like an assassin's bullet.

      "Next one." Keith demanded silently, rage boiling into a vapor.

      "Keith..."

      "NEXT ONE, KROLIA!!" He cried and slammed his fists on the desk, provoking shock from his mother's widened eyes. 

      She sighed, trying to remain impartial to his pain. He knew she was.

      Krolia gathered the manila envelope and pinched the next picture out of it. A woman with dyed blue hair, cropped. She wore blue lipstick to match, which he thought was ridiculous at the time. Hard to tell now if it was her quixotic lip stain, or a sharp absence of life. The same incident befell her as did Rolo. A hole in her head, but much more blood marking where she was killed. This photo took place in a dumpster, and her eyes were closed by the time of death.

      "Acxa. My roommate. " He revealed softly, eyes stinging from grief.

      "Acxa Williams, age 24. Resident of Balmera Valley."

      “Let me guess: killed by same bullet.” Keith cut her off. They were deceased. He got it.

      That was not the end of their meeting. Keith then had to tell the story of how he and Rolo met. About his time dating him, even going to prison with him and  _for_ him. About how they had gone their separate ways three years later and worked at the Galra fulfillment center for forty hours a week. The last time he saw him was from a distance, watching him gather an apron for the next workload.

      Acxa worked in Logistics. Also known as Human Resources. It was because he came and talked to her about the discrepancy on his paycheck that she was able to reveal information about that being an illegal charge. This was all under virtue of them being roommates as well. In fact, she was so sure that the charge was something that wasn't affiliated with Galra at all. A week before he went to the FDC, she vanished and never came home. Keith remembered her saying that she was going to see some friends. Yet he never once thought to worry about her…

      "Why did you hold back with this information?" Krolia's voice leaked with disappointment.

      "Was it essential at the time?" Keith challenged. "All we were meant to focus on was why I came out here in the first place! I wasn't receiving death threats or anything, all I knew was that the God damn factory closed down for no reason!

      Silence lingered. The man leaned back in his chair, exhaustion from so many emotions today storming and swinging in his vicinity.

      "Why not just allow Balmera PD to focus on this?"

      "Because, Keith. One of my own comes first. And I will move the equator to protect you."

      He choked back a sob. "Then what is Olkari PD’s  _impartial_ connection to all this?” He rose from his chair, taking a stance.

      "I'm sorry, Keith. That's classified.” She finished coolly, gathering the manila envelopes and storing them in a filing cabinet. She looked at him sternly. “That’s all the questions I have for now. Do NOT leave this island."

      “Yes, Ma'am.” he answered just as coolly before walking out.

~~~~~~

      With a million thoughts swarming in the shaky equilibrium of his mind, Keith kept walking until he stopped to ask an officer for bathroom directions. It was after that his pace quickened and his breaths increased in ripples.

      In the empty restroom he vomited the contents of his stomach's angst down the flush and made way to a sink to splash cold water on his pale face.         

      Who knows what would have become of him had he stayed in that valley? Would Krolia or Shiro have had to identify his lifeless body in a ditch or a dumpster? After all, it was his word and proof that set this all into motion. 

      He understood Krolia's involvement. But  _what_ was Olkari PD’s gain for taking this case?

 ~~*~~

      "Our island’s infrastructure is quickly unraveling. The foundation is 100 years old, and may not be able to sustain heavy hurricane seasons like the one we had five years ago."

      "I understand your concerns, Ms. Altea. I've also voiced my concerns to the Mayor, but he seems to be concerned more about projecting a positive image for our island." Mr. Komatsu said.

      Lance rose to the occasion, in an auspicious manner of garnering approval for being a good future son-in-law, "He's contributed 1.5 billion dollars to tourism and making a great  _image_  for this island. But nothing in the report has even  _hinted_ at fortification or law enforcement."

      Mr. Komatsu's smirk spread to the corners of his chiseled chin. "Somebody has been under my daughter's wise counsel. How does it feel to say something of significance?"

      Anna frowned a little, pursing her lips together tightly with a quiet tone that could fortify tension if there was any. "Lance has his own mind, and he's a lot more brilliant and observant that  _most_  give him credit for." She finished her remaining glass of water with a audible chime as it returned to the glass tabletop.

      Pidge shot a glance at Hunk, who returned the glance, then swallowed tightly.

      Ren Komatsu was a forty six-year-old man who was a walking example of what was called dualism. He was one of those men that did not talk much, but had much to say when he did, voice a velvety pitch and soft tone. He lived in midnight black suits and ties of all deep shades and patterns, yet caught everyone's attention when he entered a room. He was about six foot two with a medium, yet toned build. And the only feature that gave away his age was his jet black hair with sporadic streaks of gray.

      "I suppose that the mark of a great leader is to receive correction in some way, shape, or form. Being a great teacher, then, requires one to be a student as well. Wouldn't you agree, Lance-kun?"

      Lance resisted strongly to crossing his arms in front of him. Signs of weakness, his mother taught him. Sit up straight, and look your subject in the eye. According to Japanese custom, however, looking someone in the eye was the equivalent of  _cash me outside._

      "Yes, sir."

      The man thanked everyone for coming to his large mansion on a Sunday, then released them to enjoy a Sunday brunch in his large garden area.

      Before Lance could take Anna's hand to accompany him there, her father rested his hand on her shoulder and motioned for them to talk privately on the patio connecting to the meeting room they were in. Anna grinned mildly to him, which said  _just give us a moment._

      "Privately, please." Mr. Komatsu's amber-infused chestnut eyes bore into him like a slight warning.

      With the message received, Lance followed Allura and the others to the garden area as a sigh escaped from him.

~~~~~

      The mansion's backyard led downstairs and into a tea garden where the best of nature seemed to collide into one harmonious space. A perimeter of cherry blossoms and Jacarandas framed the lively space and encased a beautiful garden variety of flowers. The center of the yard featured a decent sized pond fortified with large stones and pebbles, and rainbow Koi swimming about in a randomized starburst pattern.

      If this had not been on an ordinary Sunday, Lance would have figured this setup to be a wedding reception of sorts. The flowers and trees in the garden were sure to incite desires for the garden to be a popular wedding venue should Mr. Komatsu ever give the go ahead. And guests were dressed up in their Sunday best with women adorned in their long lace sun dresses with wide rimmed hats. Gentlemen wore slacks with a choice of bow tie or skinny tie to go with their brightly colored button downs.

      Nope, just another Sunday brunch setting. And Pidge and Hunk were there to cater again, but also welcomed to mingle and explore as they pleased.

      Lance swiped a mimosa from one of the maids passing the trays and went on the hunt for something salty or at least seasoned to go along with it. He could not pinpoint any eggs or sausage. But there were pancakes and waffles galore. Hunk's giant muffins were making a debut at another booth  as a test run, and a group of teens were pointing and making a hoopla as some struck a pose in front of them with their sparkling eyes and wide smiles as the accents to their photo op.

      He really hoped for the best for them as far as this new marketing angle.

      Anna finally emerged and would have walked straight past Lance if he hadn't gripped her lightly by the shoulder. She shirked away and trembled slightly, clearly lost in the well of her own thoughts.

      "Umm..."

      "You okay?"

      "Just had to retouch my makeup a little."

      He softened his eyes, "Why? You're gorgeous enough already."

      But she smiled anyway, and he could tell by the slight way that her eyelids lowered she was forcing it.

      "That was  _code_ , sweetheart."

      He didn't get it at first. But it washed over him. "Ohh. Gotcha".

      He would have to find some way to smuggle a few chocolate muffins and something salty and junky for later...

      Anna chose to mingle and mix with guests she hadn't seen in a while, so Lance had a conversation with Allura about the garden and how, ironically, this would be the most perfect venue for he and Anna's wedding. Of course, she was going to be the maid of honor, not just because Anna said so. Hunk would be the best man and Pidge could pick between being a bridesmaid or a groomsman, but Lance already knew the answer to  _that_  one.

      "I'm fond of how "Anna McClain" sounds. Like a designer or a supermodel." He caught a glimpse of a sparkle in her eyes as the next most important question came out.

      "So, when  _is_  the big day?"

      He readied himself for a much better rehearsed answer this time around: "After we finish our graduate programs, or during a school holiday when things aren't so crazy. She'll be in school much longer than I will. I'll be ready to teach next fall."

      "Accelerated program?"

      "Yeah, one year. Mr. Komatsu promised me top recommendation to any district I choose in the greater Olkari area."

      The woman sighed with just enough enthusiasm to let him know she was happy.

      "A sturdy career ladder, new home in Olkari, and a beautiful woman to share it with. How can you not be utterly satisfied? Most men don't accomplish all this at the age of thirty let alone twenty-four."

      "It’s true. Which is why I count my blessings."

      "Oh! I almost forgot! Reinhardt was straightening the pillows outside the other day and recovered Keith's sketchbook. I meant to ask Krolia for her address so I can give it to him..."

      Keith. It was the first time  _today_  that thoughts of the Mullet resurfaced just from something as simple as a mention of last week. His eyes reflected such urgency and intensity that day and Lance wished that he could have accompanied him.

      True, they were friends. But he was not his brother or even his husband at that.

      So why in the hell did he feel so protective of this man?

      "I'll drop by his house and give it to him myself. We only live about fifteen minutes away from each other."

      "Wonderful! Come by the car after, okay?"

      "Yes, Ma'am. "

~~~~~

      The second hour seemed to drip by more slowly than the first, with Allura and Anna going off together. Lance greeted people left and right, some who haven't talked to him until now. One woman wished him a beautiful future with “Komatsu's only daughter” and to “always look worthy of her." Whatever the hell that meant. What was her name… _right_ , that bitch  _Davina_  or  _Daisy_  or whatever. As of two years ago, Lance was skilled in detecting back-handed compliments.

      Meanwhile, in entrepreneurial news, Hunk’s so-dubbed  _Muffinities_  were a hit with the younger food crowd and those with children of their own. Hunk was at the table stacking up order forms for the giant breakfast cakes while Pidge balanced their cash drawer.

      "Have any of you heard from Keith?" Lance's question penetrated their otherwise lighthearted mood.

      "Not at all." Hunk replied distractedly while scooping the small slips of paper and placing them in a plastic envelope.

      "Never gave us his number." Pidge briefly stopped to scribble down a number of some sort.

      "I'm worried, guys. You know how he starts practicing the way of the hermit when something's wrong." He wasn't meaning to stand around and sulk, so he set his plate of food down at their booth as his stomach began to gnaw gradually.

      "Lets pay him a visit. He lives with Krolia, right?" Pidge suggested softly with an adjustment of her glasses.

      It was a great idea, granted that they contacted Krolia and cleared it with her first. It was her house, after all.

      But as a finger tapped on his shoulder, something in his brain pressed pause on that, his food, and the subject of Keith.

      "Umm. You might have a situation." Allura waved for him to follow her. There was a questionable narrowing of her dual-toned blue and rose-colored eyes.

      Near the pond where the Koi swam, Anna sat in Child's Pose, unmoving. Her gaze was hovered over the pond, but upon a closer look, Lance noticed the steady rise and fall of her chest.

      "Is she asleep?" Lance knelt to one knee with one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

      Her four-inch heels were resting next to her feet. Her hair was loose and strewn about, making thick threads of violet waves over her shoulders.

      "She insisted that I let her look at the Koi for a while. One too many mimosas, I'm afraid.”

      "About how many?"

      "Four flutes if I'm not mistaken..." The British woman's voice hit a brief falsetto, then faltered.

      "Why didn't you make her stop?!" Lance threw out his palm incredulously.

      "Because she's a grown woman, Lance. And you probably wouldn't have had much luck convincing her either, given how incredibly stubborn she can be!" Allura pushed back.

      Lance groaned. He knelt down trying to shake her awake from her drunken stupor. Without any luck whatsoever, he resorted to sitting with her, pretending to admire the fish.

      “They’re  _Rainbow Koi_. But the world they live in is so... **grey** …” Her pitch was down a couple of octaves and she spoke in an emotionless drawl.

      "Okay," he dragged his voice down to a whisper. "I'm getting her out of here before her father or  _anyone else_ notices that she's in the middle of a garden because of an alcohol binge!”

      His fiancée blinked a little, eyes blurry with sleep. "We're going home?"

      "Yeah, we're going home, alright." Lance spoke to her, ignoring the fog of disappointment in his throat.

      "Not yet." She murmured in a childlike daze, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “So many people are just staring and pointing at them! I don’t want them to get panic attacks and start forgetting how beautiful and magical they are because then they'd start behaving like catfish!"

      Lance furrowed his brows as he scooped his very drunk fiancée by her underarm.

      "Can you please tell Hunk and Pidge that something came up and that I'll explain later? And if Mr. Komatsu asks, umm..."

      "Consider it resolved."

      "Thanks, Allura!" He smiled humbly as he adjusted Anna's arm around his neck and walked her slowly towards the front. He swore that she gained an extra ten pounds of dead weight.

      He pouted with a frown at the growing number of glances near the front entrance, mostly from women, who were only  _pretending_  to mind their own fucking businesses with a side glance and/or a raised brow.

      “What's wrong with Ms. Komatsu _?_  An older man asked upon glaring at Anna's slow drag.

      Lance met the man's gaze deliberately and acted on fabricating, “Looks like the stomach flu.”

      That shut them up. Rich people would react to news of illnesses like cholera or the plague were spreading.

~~~~~

      Light music always calmed Lance whenever he had a stomach ache or was incredibly tired from a busy day. There was a song breezing from the car stereo, the very same one that he got stuck in his head numerous times. This one was about someone returning from a long trip only to find out they were still the same after all. He sung under his breath with true intention, trying not to wake the sleeping beauty next to him

      As the Komatsu estate disappeared from view, sun-sparkling water seemed to move with the car in a wave of it's own. This would probably be the last time that he would see the ocean this way for a while after beginning his new life as a graduate student in three days. Nice to be on vacation in a land where everyone loves you and knows your name.

      They  _had_  to get away from that mansion. Anna was different today. Her father changed her mood somehow, he knew it! Today she wanted to escape something that Lance had on numerous occasions tried his best to welcome her into revealing. But the girl just wouldn't do it. She couldn't allow Lance to be that man who would catch her when she fell. Instead she went and gulped down four mimosas, unaware that even  _her_  super heroine ability to hold her liquor could have limits and consequences at some point.

      He heard a medium pitch moan weep from her.

      "Sorry, babe. Was my singing disturbing you?"

      "No, it was like a  _lullaby_."

      She reclined upward, palm pressed against her mouth. Her breathing escalated and increased in pitch.

      Lance uttered a silent curse and swiftly pulled over to a stop where the guardrails separated the road from the rocks and ocean.

      Anna immediately shoved the door open and fell out of the car as she vomited heavily on the asphalt, retching with a choke and a gasp. Lance rushed from his side of the door to be next to her.

      " _Dios mio_." he uttered gently with one hand holding her long hair back and the other rubbing her back.

~~~~~

      When they got home, Lance took her to bed and helped her to get more comfortable. He decided to fit her in one of his longer tank tops that reached just mid-thigh on her, like a mini gown of sorts. She raised her arms up limply as he pulled the shirt over her head.

      Despite the midafternoon, the man closed the curtains shut until all traces of the day were snuffed out.

      They exchanged words in the most hush of whispers.

      “Don't.”

      She must have caught notice of his pitying stare and averted her eyes with a miserable-looking pout.

      “Don't what?” he continued with false innocence.

      “Just. Don't.” She pronounced acutely.

      Yeah.  _Don’t_  give this little woman a lecture on drinking away one's problems because the hangover is bitchin' this time around. And the sound of her own voice was probably audial agony to her head.

      “As you wish,  _pobrecita_.

      “I remember what that means,  _danna-san._ ”

      Her feistiness was fleeting as she laid against his chest.

      He ran a plastic brush watchfully through her plum-shaded strands and secured it with a velvet twist tie. She fell to her pillow right after with malaise clouding her eyes.

      He left and came back with her unscented makeup removal wipes and began gently removing traces of facial foundation that was now flawed with watery streaks. And mascara.   

      Once he got to work on her left cheek, she flinched with a hiss. A faint sound of shock parted his lips.

      A dark violet patch with outlines of red bruised her apricot complexion.

      “Lance…earlier…”

      “I know. Just let me take care of you tonight.”

      He did his best to refrain from interrogating her about that now. Tonight: witch hazel to decolorize that harsh mark. And some special tea later to knock that hangover on its ass.

~~~~~

      Ren Komatsu's face evaporated into his senses and he clenched his fists angrily. Was that "discipline" for Anna calling him out earlier and standing up for the man she loved? Either way, he would have to pull future-husbandly rank and forbid her from going back over there somehow, or at least voice his concerns firmly.

      Going to the man’s house to make a stand was out of the question. He could probably destroy Lance without contemplation. Not to mention wreck his future and sending both of them to live with Pidge and Hunk indefinitely. Not that they were bad, but still…

      Could he file a police report? Actually, Anna was over twenty-one, and would have to do it herself…Plus, he was not her husband yet, he remembered as he looked at his own bare fingers.

      His phone shook him out of his ruminations by vibrating against the kitchen table, and Lance sprinted over before it hit the linoleum floor and he would have to make a beeline to the nearest store for another one. He pushed the green graphic on the screen with his trigger-happy pointing finger.

      "Keith?" he spoke in the receiver while holding it to his mouth.

_"Hey."_

      "Hey, yourself! I haven't heard your voice since we were at Allura's! You okay?"

      " _I will be_. _I’m out of town taking care of something urgent. We'll talk later, okay."_   His voice was low and sounded groggy.

      " _And Lance. Don't say anything to anyone_."

      "Hey, hold on a second!"

      The call concluded with a descending beep. Lance clenched his teeth between his lip in frustration. The guy never  _did_  know how to end a damn phone call.

      Another thing he remembered: He forgot to get his book from Allura earlier.

~~~~~

      With daylight long gone, Lance stripped and went to bed next to his still hungover fiancée.

      A buzz sounded in the silence. He rolled his eyes at his phone's glowing, vibrating screen resting on his nightstand. As he swiped to look, he saw a number that had  _never_  called him before.

      It might have been Keith calling from a payphone or something, if payphones still existed in this day and age. Maybe from Balmera Valley?

      He rapidly tiptoed out of his room and slammed himself painfully into a wall as he answered.

      "Hello?"

      "Good evening, Lance." Krolia's voice carried notes of displeasure, and the familiar dots of worry.

      "Krolia, what's up?"

_"Do_ **_you_ ** _happen to know where a certain dark-haired young man is? About your height, two inches taller maybe, wears leather jackets and has NOT been answering his phone at all?! They say he has my scowl...”_

      Lance inhaled before spilling the truth to him. "Umm..."

      "Lance, just so we're clear: You will be charged for aiding  **and**  abetting him if you don't tell me what you know."

      “What’s the meaning of this? Is he in trouble?” Krolia's law enforcement voice stirred wasps in his stomach.

      “In a matter of speaking…now tell me, where did he go?”

      It scared him the way she could exploit when someone was not being straightforward. He prayed to God that his friend could forgive him…

      "Alright, Krolia, you win. He told me he was leaving town to take care of something."

_"Shit!"_

      "Wait! What exactly-?!"

_"Thank you, Lance!"_

      For the second time tonight, the phone abruptly hung up on him. Like mother, like son.

      "Damn it, Keith!" With his phone nearly cracking in his grip, he relaxed and chucked it at a couch cushion.

      And Keith was probably about to be screwed because of him. So, he retrieved his phone for the last time tonight and left a voice message of his own, not bothering to question why there was no dial tone.

_Keith Kogane. Leave a message._

      “Okay, first of all,  _Keith Kogane_ , get a warmer message greeting because I literally got a chill from listening to that shit. Finally, your mom now knows where you are because she threatened to  _prosecute me_ for keeping your little secret. FYI, mother’s intuition, Keith. 

      He was more than a little frazzled now. But after calling the man again, his voice became riddled with vulnerability.

      “I’m really trying here, and you’re making it so hard for me to not worry about you! Wherever you are, remember to  _use your head_  already. I mean it.”

~~~~~

      Keith was almost there. To Balmera, where the desert view showed plants that would be lifeless to the naked eye or to the untrained imagination. The entire desert canvas became somewhat mystical at night and bathed in deep, faded cobalt with the moon's blessing. Several species of cacti scattered stationary across the barren ground transitioned to a scene of solar powered mills and endless mountains and hills.

      And for once, Keith actually welcomed the twenty degree rise in temperature and missed seeing the rippling of vapors from the exhausts of rushing vehicles during daylight.

      As Olkari P.D. tied up the last of loose ends with the press concerning Sanda's aftermath, Keith found it suitable to leave at his originally planned nine-o-clock in the morning.

      It was his  _word_  to his Chief of Police mother that he would not leave Olkari. Nothing in  _writing_ , however.

      The first three rides, which he hitchhiked, were relatively easy because he had gotten the practice to deal with long trips. Just stay awake, all eyes on the road. The conflicting hormones of anxiety and grief injected him with the hypervigilance to stay focused. He would pay roughly $200 on a rideshare for his fourth trip.

      But on the fourth trip, the female driver granted him the decency to close his eyes after the traveling from before rendered him exhausted. Though he fell into a deep sleep, he encountered a nightmare depicting Acxa's and Rolo's murders that left him waking up sharply and gasping with a racing heart. The girl's breathing hitched and they would have crashed were it not for a skilled swerve to the right.

      "Are you alright? I'm really sorry, man."

      Keith waited for her to turn her gaze back on the road, then reciprocated with a soft tone of his own.

      "Didn't mean to startle you like that. Gonna try to stay awake until this ride is finished."

      What she was unaware of was him having already been awake for a burdensome thirty hours.

      Hunger gnawed at his stomach like a creature trying to burrow its way through his digestive system. He could quickly stop for a little something...maybe some sort of an a la carte item with a soda...

      "Listen, do you mind stopping at this gas station here on the corner, I think it's a mile or so to the left."

      "You don’t want the apartments anymore?”

      "Yeah, I do. Just want to grab something out of here real quick."

      "No worries."

      "I could get you something if you'd like."

      She insisted politely that she was okay, but thanked him nonetheless.

      With $250 left, he could grab something for $5 and still pay his final portion of the apartment rent.

      Night was pouring with stars of different shapes, sizes, and shimmers. It felt like pure ages ago since he last marveled quietly at them.

      What brought his eyes away from above was the auspicious hues of red and blue cutting in through the back windows and washing their vehicle in an alternating sequence.

      The driver's breath hitched when she was signaled to pull over.

      "What the hell? You weren't even speeding!"

      "I swear I don’t know what's up!"

      She rolled the window down for the officer, hand reaching to her visor above her for any required documentation she might need.

      With a good evening greeting, the officer immediately asked for the man named Keith Kogane sitting in this passenger seat to step out of the car, that this woman was not to be held accountable for anything.

      There was no way in hell he was getting out of this car.

      "Why? For what?"

      "By direct order of Chief Kogane of the Olkari PD, I'm sure you know  _exactly_  what it's about."

      One part of him wanted to throw up a middle finger and command the woman to speed off anyway. But another part, the part that remembered himself as Krolia Kogane’s son, maintained composure and obeyed reluctantly.

~~*~~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Glossary (for those who don't speak or know): 
> 
> Pobrecita is Spanish for "Poor baby" if talking to a female.  
> Danna-san is an informal, cute way of calling someone "husband" in Japanese.


	5. Satisfaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What are you doing?!" 
> 
> "Would you relax, man?! It shouldn't rain for another ten minutes!”
> 
> Not even a minute after his friend made his forecast did thunder greet them with heavy daggers of rain that splattered on the terrace, with Keith very much out in the open. He gasped in shock as he felt every bit of the torrent soaking through his black beanie, thick flannel shirt and skinny jeans, bringing his overall temperature to a bone chill.
> 
> "LANCE!" he roared, eyes storming with anger. His teeth clenched yet clattered as he wrapped his arms around himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting my groove back!
> 
> Also, my art is on Tumblr for the time being, along with a trailer I threw together (from Lance's point of view.)

_[Chapter Title: Keith in thought](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7205536649b515e39c9556d88a9ea358/tumblr_pplnlnXkZc1wu2uk6_1280.jpg) _

 

      Who knows what happened after his arrest? One thing he figured was that the ride-share driver was probably required to give records of how long he had been on the road.

      Law enforcement would work backward and check the rest of his whereabouts, he guessed.

      He gripped the cell bars tightly until his fingers stung and itched. All of his stuff was detained until further notice: backpack, phone,  even his father's Swiss army knife that was tucked snugly into his jeans pocket.

      "We received orders to detain you until Deputy Shirogane arrives." A tall, chubby officer with red hair and wide-framed glasses revealed after concluding his phone call.

      And knowing Shiro's ulterior motive, it was probably to capture Keith and drag him back to Olkari Beach kicking and screaming. The fact the Shiro knew meant that Lance squealed, he realized bitterly.

      "I don't have time for this! I have shit to do!"

      "Well you're gonna have to change your plans tonight. We're not to release you until tomorrow morning." The cop punctuated his last sentence with a heavy country drawl.

      Volcanic anger rose like a gusher in his veins, and he gritted his teeth to hold back from saying something vulgar or doing something else that would extend his time in here. He sighed and relaxed his shoulders, counting backwards from twenty to zero in his head.

      "I'm entitled to one phone call, correct?"

      They confiscated his phone from him, therefore he would have to use one of their landlines. The first person he thought of was Shiro. He silently steadied his breathing as he struggled for a moment to remember what his phone number was.

      He punched in the numbers, icily glancing at the police officer staring him down. His foot tapped the floor involuntarily, and he swallowed with a prayer that the line would pick up soon.

      Shiro answered without so much as a greeting.

      " _It was for your own good, Keith_."

      Must have been clairvoyance that told him Keith would be calling him at this time.

      "That doesn't explain why I'm being detained  **without due process**!"

_"Well, we went over a similar process the first time that you gave your word to Krolia to stay in Olkari. If it weren’t for Lance..."_

      "It figures." He groaned angrily. "Serves me right..."

_"Keith, you're to remain in custody until I arrive tomorrow morning."_

      "Right. Because I have inborn abilities that’ll allow me to materialize through the fucking bars!"

_"I'm doing you a favor, Keith. Don't make this harder than it already is."_

      "Whatever, Shiro."

      He groped for a button to end the call, then foolishly remembered that this was a landline and slammed the phone down on the base.

      "That's public property, pal! You break it and your overnight stay will be the least of your worries!"

      The heavyset officer was inches from him, and Keith would have stood his ground had he not nearly gagged from the smell of garlic and dairy spraying from his breath.

      "Duly noted." He sneaked a heavy exhale into his shoulder as he revolted with nausea creeping into his throat.

~~~~~

      "Kogane. Rise and shine."

      The clattering of the gate sent a slight rattle to his temple. He rubbed his face downward with his palm, wondering exactly what time it was. Voices of various tone and structure were fluttering about in the entryway.

_"Thanks a lot, Deputy. I owe you one."_

      Getting out of a jail that was hours away from Balmera was more than a breath of fresh air, it was a very welcome departure from a life that he had no desire to ever return to. Shiro always managed to get him out of his proverbial rut, yet something sweeping away the dust of gratitude replaced itself with a messy vapor of something opposite.

      He squinted thanklessly as he collected his belongings. “Whatever it takes, huh?

      "Keith, I need to reiterate that this was-"

      " _For my own good_. So you said." He grabbed his jacket and flung it over his shoulder as he distanced himself far away from his police deputy brother.

      After taking it upon himself to open the passenger door and settle in with a sulk, he remained quiet with the hope that Shiro would ignore him on the way back, no conversation, no bonding.

      He briefly checked his phone to see two missed calls and two voice messages from Lance.  _Until later_.

~~~~~

      Shiro continued to drive the highway as the sun slowly elevated over the simmering desert landscape.

      Keith welcomed the silence and decided to lean into his seat and give sleep the chance to repossess him again. It only worked for two hours last night, after all. Maybe sitting upright would indeed be better than lying prostrate on some metal slab attached to a brick wall.

      "Keith."

      "Shiro, I'm exhausted. And I still haven't accomplished what I came out here to do. Might as well get proper sleep while you're carting me back to Olkari Beach."

      "I'm not ready for us to head back just yet."

      Keith lifted his head up and turned to his brother with something rising in his heart that was a sensation removed from surprise.

      "I have a peace offering for you." Shiro began.

      "I'm listening."

      "Give me your word that you won't be that reckless  _ever_ again, and I'll accompany you the rest of the way to care of whatever it is you need to do."

      "Alright. You have my word." he relented firmly. "Krolia made the call, didn't she?"

      "She's not just your mother, Keith. Remember that she’s also Chief of Police. Making difficult decisions is what she signed up for."

      "Shiro, I get that." he frowned, remembering the talk she had with him the night before his ninth birthday. Most kids would have received the news with anticipation that they were having a party or of receiving an early gift.

      Not their grief-stricken family. No, his mother surprised him with a somber talk of her  _dead set_  on joining the Beat to receive her badge.

      With such a demanding schedule, that meant Shiro would have to step up as more than Keith's babysitter, he would eventually become his older brother as years passed. Picking him up from school, hiding some of his behavior issues from the woman, and ordering take-out on more occasions than Keith could count.

      Keith was proud of his mother as she took her badge of honor on her graduation day. But as time progressed, Keith felt nothing short of a new coolness from her the more she spent time at Balmera PD and moved up into the ranks, eventually transferring all the way to Olkari Beach.

      And Keith blamed himself every day for the sacrifice his mother made. All because of his eight-year-old self, and of the shortcomings that came with being a child in the wrong place at the wrong time.

_“Kei…”_

      That large towel was supposed to keep his father’s blood from caking under Keith’s fingernails and sticking to his forearms like hot tar. He pressed with all his strength, just like the man taught him during a first aid lesson.

 _“I…told you to, stay in the car…”_  His father fussed and hissed heavily through pain so intense that his face and neck were glistening heavily with sweat. Veins protruded harshly from his temples.

 _“But I gotta stop you from bleeding!”_  he stuttered with a lump in his throat and tears shedding to his neck.

      But eight-year-old Keith knew nothing of  _where_ in his body the wound hit. Just that a bad man caused his father to fall down in pain and took off.

      Keith waited for hours in a crowded emergency room after the tragedy, surrounded by strangers who wore grimaces, children smaller than him who clung to their own parents in whatever pain or illness manifested in their bodies. And there  _he_  sat with his dad's blood imprinted on his shirt, arms, and crevices of his hands. Forever in his conscious.

 _"Did I save him?"_   _The questioned tortured Keith endlessly that night, especially after receiving his answer._

      It wasn't fair. He did his part, so why couldn't anyone else step up and work harder to save a man who could save people from burning buildings for fucks sake?!

      Keith came back to the present. Shiro parked by then and he was already at the address that Keith gave him.

~~~~~

      For months after work he would drag himself with fatigue through the eight-foot arch leading to the apartment's atrium. The door on the left was Acxa's apartment, and he would crash on the sofa in the front room. It was a small, humble space, but still enough of a respite from the large, looming problems that were the world, and Galra.

 _"I always had my doubts about working there."_  He remembered Acxa saying one early evening.

      A week before Keith shared his plans about going to the FDC about Galra, the two of them shared their concerns. Acxa felt a more...unspoken, unseen vibe about the place. They were hiring thousands of people a day, it seemed. And half as many were leaving in droves, either fed up or washed out. To say that the turnover for Galra fulfillment was high was definitely an understatement.

_"But you've been working with them since February. What made you change your mind?"_

_"Warehouse workers coming in high, or heavily drunk. You'd be surprised how sporadic drug and alcohol testing is. They promised they would do it monthly, but some employees keep falling through the cracks. I wonder if I should begin looking for another job…"_

      He physically shook the emerged memory of her trashed corpse out of his visuals and continued inside.

      To this day she still kept a spare key under the mat.

      One look at the entryway brought a sharp gasp to his throat.

      Nothing. No outlines where the furniture used to be. Every single spot where pictures hung, where punctures from several decorations and nails once were…vanished. The disarming smell of fresh paint crawled to his nostrils.

      "What?!"

      He rapidly roamed through each room for traces of something that belonged to her stacked in the corner of her old bedroom or even thrown out. Nothing. He darted outside and near the dumpster where tenants threw out their trash. Empty. At least of her belongings.

      With his vision churning, he fell to his knees in weakened surrender. Sharp breaths barely made their way through his lungs.

      "All her stuff, all of it is gone!

      "Keith, breathe!"

      "WHERE THE FUCK IS HER STUFF?!"

      To Keith's own surprise, he felt overcome with an almost undiscernible cluster of emotions. His throat swelled as his chest trembled with heavy sobbing. He wailed as streams of tears rushed heavily from his eyes and fell in soft spatters on the concrete.

      Shiro’s arms reached out to console him, but he kept him at arm’s length.

      “I did this to her!” He rasped. “She was murdered because of  _me!”_

~~~~~~

      After finally pulling it together enough to finish phase two of his visit, Keith got ready to surrender the remaining $250 of his gift money from Lance to pay off his final $200 portion of rent.

      “The full amount of $800 has already been paid this month, Mr. Keith.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “I’ll print a statement for you.” The gentleman, whose name was Ridge, waited the print job to finish before handing Keith the warm sheet of paper.

      $0.00 was indeed the final balance, paid on August 31st. One week ago.

      “Do you know who paid this? And why her stuff was moved out so quickly?

      "He wore a baseball cap and had on slacks and a shirt I think. Didn’t get a good look at his face." Ridge said. “There were some moving men that came to move her stuff out, don’t know much more beyond that.”

      “What about check stubs or card transactions? Anything revealing a name?”

      “Paid with cash.” Ridge’s face fell sadly. “Probably a Samaritan. She was a good woman. My condolences to you.”

      "Thank you, Ridge. She was.” He sighed and lowered his head.

~~~~~

      He wished his former manager all the best.

      Once he was done with the physical part of grieving, he continued with his life as the temperature on the asphalt sizzled. His most prized possession laid in waiting behind the rickety wooden garage door that he bolted down with a giant lock.

      After pulling the lock apart with a key, he opened the door and smiled wryly.

      "Missed you."

      Shiro stood next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Keith, how are we going to transfer it back to Olkari?"

      " _I'm_  riding her there." he spoke staunchly, arms folded as he stood squarely.

      "It's eight in the morning..."

      "Which means by  _seven_  in the evening, she'll be in mom's garage safely stowed."

      "Keith, are you sure that you don't want to have your bike transported over there? We could book a flight-"

      "I appreciate it, Shiro." He said as he rolled the bike out of the garage. "But I need time to clear my head. And don't worry, I'm not going to detour while you have your back turned.”

      "Alright. I didn't want to do this, but I’m gonna have to pull deputy rank again.”

      "Didn’t you just hear me say  _I'm not going to detour?”_

      The man folded his arms and exhaled sharply. "That’s not what I’m talking about, Keith. Eventually your motorcycle won’t be the only one running on fumes."

      “Then this is about my lack of sleep?”

      “How many hours  _did_ you get these past two days?” Shiro narrowed his eyes at him sternly.

      “Maybe one or two.”

      Keith climbed on the seat and sighed wearily, not in the mood for this man's paternalistic shit. What was Shiro going to do  _this time_  and pretend to have  _no control_  over?

      “Meet me at the Alfor Altea airport at ten o clock sharp. We're flying home, and I’m hiring someone that I personally trust emphatically to bring your “girl" home in one flawless piece.”

      “Shiro-"

      “Considering your recent history of insomnia and current grief you're enduring, you’re an impaired driver on the road. Others will be in danger. Not chancing it.”

      “Fine.” Keith whined like an insolent teenager, but he didn’t care.

      “And Keith?”

      He responded to his older brother with a sulky grunt.

      "I  **mean**  ten o clock sharp. Don’t force me to call Krolia." he threatened before climbing in the police vehicle and driving away.

      "I'm not afraid of her." His voice cracked two octaves above his usual tone.

      He put on his helmet to conceal his pout, revved up the engine for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and continued in a flash on the road.

~~~~~

      “I’m not going to press charges against my own father, Lance.” Anna said.

      “Why not? He  _assaulted_  you!” Lance push aside his coffee, tried to reason further with this girl. But pure conviction wasn’t working.

      “ _Disciplined_  me.” She interceded. “We argued, I called him out of his name. I deserved it.”

      Lance’s mind fizzled with consternation as he slammed his palms against the table and stood up. “Anna,  _not many people_  deserve to leave their parent’s house with a nasty bruise on their cheek-“

      But Anna spoke in a pitch that juxtaposed Lance’s harried tone, “You must drop it. Besides, he apologized and so did I.” She shifted to a cross-legged pose and brought her cup of detox tea to her bare lips.

      Lance huffed a shaky sigh and took his seat. “Having you around him makes me nervous.  _He_  makes me nervous!”

      “I’ve survived all twenty-two years of my life with that man. Don’t you think I turned out well?”

      It was not going to be an argument he could win, especially when her shades of plum swam with  _that much_  conviction. Time to change the subject to something more lighthearted, he supposed.

      “So…starting your clinical psychology program soon, huh? We’re actually professional students.”

      “Wow, we’re getting  _old_.”

      “Nah. You don’t look a day over sixteen.”

      “Well, thanks! You know this one lady at the farmer’s market said I looked like someone in her daughter’s high school play?”

      Lance chuckled. “All that means is that you’ll be a bonafide Mrs. Robinson by the time you’re 40.”

      “Being Mrs. McClain should make you  _very_ nervous, then. Midlife Crisis and all.” She smirked while tapping her cheek with her pointing finger.

      Lance frowned, shaking away the picture of that scenario playing out in his mind. “No way. Not this Cuban. I’m guaranteed to get finer with age. Maybe I’ll even grow a beard and mustache to go with my thicker surfer’s bod.” He drawled on the last three words.

      Anna pursed her lips to her tea, a snicker echoing in the cup. She gave up and belted out a full-blown laugh, clasping her straightened palms together.

      Lance rose an eyebrow, mouth upturned. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”

~~~~~

      Keith did better and met Shiro at the terminal seating area at 9 on the dot.

      "Hungry?" Shiro offered.

      "Starving."

      Shiro pulled out a white bag of something that was slightly greased at the bottom. Keith recognized the scent of a bakery, and of something rich in cinnamon. Or was it nutmeg?

      "There's coffee, too. Had to put it in a thermos so it didn't spill all over the place."

      Keith searched the bag with his hand and felt some small donut holes inside. Cinnamon glazed and deep fried from the donut shop near the rest stop that Shiro used to take him when he was younger, as a reward for good grades or generally staying out of trouble. He looked fondly and bit into one of the small treats.

      "Are we good?" Shiro entreated him.

      "Just about." Keith teased through a full mouth.

      Shiro pouted. “You’re a brat when you wanna be."

      Keith tittered, then took his words gently to heart. He had been a pain in the ass, so much that it was painful to face that fact.

      "You know? I'm a grown man who's been acting out like a rebellious kid. People will say it's because of grief, but I can only use that as an excuse for so long... I’m better than that, Shiro."

      But Shiro stared into his eyes without a trace of admonishment or pity. "You've been through more than most people at such a young age, yet you're taking responsibility and finding your own way no matter how many wrong turns you take. Just remember: you  _must_  be patient with yourself, Keith."

      He put his donut back in the bag and leaned back in his seat with a daze in his eyes.

~~~~~

      In contrast with Balmera's dry climate and blistering directness of the sun, Keith found the misty humidity index of Olkari's island strangely disarming. By the time he arrived back to Krolia’s at ten in the morning all he was ready to do was sleep to the white noise of foaming waves.

      "Was it worth it, Keith?" Krolia scolded.

      "Yes, it was." He responded enthusiastically before sighing. "I'm sorry that I broke our agreement. And I’ll accept the consequences of that later. " He darted away from her usual scrutinizing stare by turning to look at Shiro fondly.

      "Take it easy today, old timer."

      "That goes double for you." He affectionately shoved him from behind, then pulled him into a tight hug.

      "Love you, Shiro."

      "Love you too."

      Krolia stopped Shiro before he went to the car, “You urged him to let Balmera handle this, right?”

      Shiro patted Krolia’s shoulder and continued away.

      “I’m glad you’re safe, and back here again.” Krolia sighed and looked at Keith.

      “So am I.”

      Before driving off, the woman tossed him the garage door remote as the delivery truck began to back into the driveway. Keith hoped to God that Shiro’s promise held true for his bike in there.

      The delivery man, who was Pidge’s older brother, Matt, hopped out of the driver’ seat. He opened the hatch and they both climbed up the ramp. He stepped back as Keith inspected and scrutinized for any marks and dents. 

      “Did I pass?”

      Keith smiled at the man. “With flying colors.” They knocked fists and Matt did a strange note of la las while twinkling his fingers, which made Keith’s face melt into a deadpan of confusion.

      “I’ve been up since two midnights ago. Please forgive me!”

      “No, it’s… cool. Insomnia?”

      “Working overtime with the Native Olkarians downtown. Their transit company wants to further improve travel between the rural parts and the ocean metropolis. Yet they also want to maintain their green initiative.”

      “Good luck with that.” Keith meant it, even in his weight of slumber’s burden.

      Matt told him to take care and he waved gratefully after saying “bye”.

      He stuffed his phone back in his pocket as quickly as he shelled it out. Normally, he would have been slightly elated to talk to Lance. But after sleeping on a one and a half-hour flight and having dealt with a very bittersweet goodbye to his old city, he was in no mood to fend off his friend’s emotional turbulence.

 _ **Keith:**_   _I’m back home._

_~~~~~_

      Thirty minutes after stowing away his motorbike and taking a short, yet steamy shower, Keith emerged from the bathroom in only a towel and checked his phone.

 _ **Lance:**_   _Good._

      A stream of air escaped anxiously from his nostrils as he became compelled to explain himself.

 _**Keith:** _ _listened to your vm’s and wanna say I’m sorry for putting you in that position._

 _**Lance:** _ _Okay._

      Yep, he blew it. 

~~~~~

      After sleeping for a record four more hours, Keith finished the rest of his day feeling more refreshed than usual. He decided to just stay home for the day. It occurred to him that everything that happened in Balmera was meant for Balmera P.D. to handle. Krolia and Shiro had some pieces of the puzzle regarding  _their_  connection to it, but of course they deemed that none of his business as a civilian.

      So Keith was officially a resident of Olkari Beach now. Which meant he would have to eventually leave his nest and explore more of the people, places, and things that made this town tick. Interesting.

      Keith almost finished arranging the last of the sandbags that his mother needed. According to her, rainstorms in Olkari were never something to underestimate, especially with the ocean a mere three miles from their home.

      The two-toned melody chimed loudly through the house, and he rushed towards the front door to see who wanted to show up.

      "Um, hi?" He spoke through the half-ajar door.

      Lance was here on his front porch with a cardboard box stuffed with grocery items, mouth twisted in a need for permission to come in. Keith stepped away and let the man do what he needed to do.

      “How did you reach the-" Keith started.

      “Elbow. There's more in the trunk, so help me out, will ya?"

~~~~~

      By glancing into Lance's trunk, Keith mentally counted  _at least_ ten boxes in there. Most of them looked like perishables and canned or dried goods.

      "Ah! Shit!" he heard his friend shriek.

      Keith whipped around and rushed to him, a box snug in his arms.

      "Dude! Your landing nearly did me in!"

      "Sorry. Wish I warned you sooner."

      The sleek dark grey kitchen island that was clear a moment ago was now strategically littered with the boxes.

      Keith folded his arms as his eyes darted back and forth at the items with wonderment. This stuff had to have cost hundreds easily and looked like healthy, nutritious, filling food.

      "Lance...what  _is_  all this?"

      "The answer to your prayers, and to Krolias." He stated plainly. "Something told me it was looking like Mother Hubbard's stash and not like Chief Kogane's opulent food pantry. Looks like my sixth sense was correct. So I spent a lovely two hours going from isle to isle throwing stuff in the basket. Got you a treat.”

      He took out a small bottle and slid it to Keith. Aioli sauce, just like he savored on that sandwich the other day.

      “You didn't!” Keith giddily inspected the bottle.

      “See? Now you can foodgasm in the privacy of your own home." Lance perched his hands on his hips after doing God's work. "Make sandwiches, dips, or eat the whole damn bottle with a spoon while watching court shows, it’s your call.”

      “I hate court shows.”

      “Okay, while you watch Buzzfeed Unsolved or Discovery Channel, or whatever.”

      "Why are you being nice to me?" Keith raised his eyebrow with a soft tone in his voice.

      The other man rested his arms as they fell to his sides. "You really  _did_  put me in a shitty position that night, you know. But instead of continuing to sulk, I figured I'd just kill you with kindness instead." He flashed him a playful grin.

      "Well, it's working."

      It really  _was_  working. What did Keith do to receive an angel like this guy standing here? It wasn't fair. His pocketbook was very grateful, unlike his prideful, stubborn heart.

      "Seriously, Lance. I'm really sorry I did that to you. I realize now how stupid I was."

      "Then why tell me anything at all?"

      "I don't know...guess I felt you were the first person I needed to tell..." His eyes averted from Lance's curious direction as his body traversed towards the back door. "Um, gotta finish this. So the rain doesn't flood us or drown us..."

      "It's cool, go ahead." he waved him away casually while putting up juice.

      The sun was now tightly sewn behind thick depths of gray. The air carried a chill that reminded Keith of winter in the desert, not Indian Summer in Olkari.

      Rain was coming soon, and Keith was only halfway finished with securing the terrace's perimeter. According to the weather report, it would be roughly two to three inches. Without those bags organized, flooding would be a guarantee and water would surely spread in the house like fallen ocean water. So he picked up the pace in order to be finished within ten minutes.

      Lance called from the patio letting him know that he started an early dinner on the stove and came outside to help.

      "I still have about ten left!" Keith yelled over the wind. "Can you secure those around the back door?"

      Yet Lance went to work strolling over to each unsecured part, setting bags down painstakingly for the next several minutes as though he had all of the time in the world, as if there was no thunder or rain getting ready to hit at any moment. Frustration built into Keith like an angry swarm of bees.

      "What are you doing?!" 

      "Would you relax, man?! It shouldn't rain for another ten minutes!” 

      Not even a minute after his friend made his forecast did thunder greet them with heavy daggers of rain that splattered on the terrace, with Keith very much out in the open. He gasped in shock as he felt every bit of the torrent soaking through his black beanie, thick flannel shirt and skinny jeans, bringing his overall temperature to a bone chill.

      "LANCE!" he roared, eyes storming with anger.  His teeth clenched yet clattered as he wrapped his arms around himself.

      And there was Lance leaning against the patio door underneath the awning, having set the last of the bags there. As he went inside to fetch some towels from the bathroom, he nearly stumbled onto his knees from laughter-stricken fatigue.

~~~~~

      Twenty minutes of silent treatment later, Keith finally came from his room dried off wearing a long-sleeved fitted graphic tee and dark gray joggers. To save electricity, he turned off the back-splash light that illuminated along the cooking area. There should have been scores of candles waiting in the box on the pantry floor, his mother texted him. He chose a few red ones, a couple of white ones..."

      "Need help?" Lance asked. 

      "I found some."

      After setting each candle in a respectable place, he landed next to Lance where he was on the couch.

      "Ten minutes, huh? Thanks for the weather report, genius." He scowled lightly.

      "God decided to prove me wrong." Lance shot back weakly.

      Keith turned on the TV and opened a Netflix menu. After five fruitless minutes of searching for something to watch, he passed the remote to Lance.

      "Just don't pick anything Disney, or musical." Keith warned him.

      "You know that narrows all my choices to a sliver." Lance pouted, shrinking the gap between his thumb and pointing finger

      The two men settled more deeply into the cushions, staring at the screen with a weariness that carried on until the TV shut off by itself.

      "Sounds heavy out there." Keith listened with small trepidation to the timbre of water drumming on the roof.

      "You're not scared of storms, are you?"

      "I grew up with dust storms and tornadoes, remember?"

      "But is it the same as heavy rains with the threat of tsunamis looming?"

      "Are you implying that I'm scared?" Keith narrowed his eyes with a challenging glare.     

      "Well, you  _did_ freeze like a helpless little fawn when the rain attacked you!" Lance recalled with a stifled guffaw.

      Keith clenched his teeth at that mockery with flared nostrils, "Because it was colder than a mother fucker! And no thanks to  _you…”_

      "Oh my God! Has bad ass Keith Kogane lost his tou-"

      As thunder boomed resoundingly, the men uttered synchronized gasps and wore expressions that were a mixture of awe and fear. Keith involuntarily gripped Lance's hand and squeezed it.

      The other man's eyes fell on the sight, yet he did nothing about it. "Hey...are you okay?"

      "Sorry." He murmured as he took his hand back, a flush against his cheeks.

      Lance's voice simmered to a gentle tone. "Just believe me  _this time_ when I say that this will only last overnight."

      Keith looked away from him, chin resting uncomfortably in his palm.

      Lance realized that it was time to distract Keith with something,  _anything._

~~~~~

      Two finished food bowls and a classic movie selection later, Keith offered to clean up while Lance relaxed on the couch, arms resting behind his head.

      A grateful smile looped Keith's lips while his heart thumped sweetly, a warm chill settling in his shoulders and back. Despite his reservations with rain storms, any stormy afternoon like this was better than a sunny day  _without_  any of this.

      "What's going on?" He traveled back to the living room and took a spot next to Lance. He had tuned in to fragments of the film, but not enough to get a coherent understanding of the plot and characters.

      "She's deciding whether to give up the baby." Lance's gaze remained fixed on the screen.

      "The woman that got knocked up by the professor, right?"

      Lance nodded.

      Two voices filled the room, voices that were speaking hurriedly in their 1940s whimsy. The man urged her to be  _rational_  about this, for her not to just _run away_  from motherhood because the baby’s father would be absent. The woman countered in her feathery pitch that a child deserved  _two parents_  to love it and that raising it alone would eventually be _a mistake_ , given that she was estranged from her family.

_I'll be its family. And yours._

      Cue the slow violin music transitioning to lighthearted flutes.

      "Okay, I'm lost. Doesn’t the professor know?" Keith asked with his mouth pinched. 

      "He doesn't know." Lance answered quickly.

      "And who's the man she's talking to?" Keith tilted his head quizzically.

      Suddenly two vertical lines flashed on the screen and the characters froze in mid-speech.

      "Okay,  _one time_! So you better read my lips or whatever you have to do to absorb what I’m about to say!" Lance slowed down his speech a little, fighting the urge in vexation to speed through the summary of what happened in the last thirty minutes. He instead led Keith patiently through the who, what, where, why, and how of the movie, in which the Mullet shook his head gingerly with a concentrated frown. It took only two minutes.

      "Think you can follow along now?"

      "Yeah, I can."

      Because if Keith dared to say no, Lance would have to find another viewing buddy.

~~~~~

      Rain was still falling and making a cluster of ripples on the terrace. And now lightning played a part with its varied flashes.

      Keith stirred awake from the perch of his fist after experiencing a sensation of gravity dropping him. He started to ask Lance if he wanted to subject themselves to one more movie, but his friend was sitting straight with his head leaned back while soft snores escaped him. It was probably best that he slept over here for the night; driving the roads, no matter how short the distance, was risky.

      He hated to wake him up, but he started to anyway. Until the man's phone vibrated with Anna's special ringtone.

      “Shit.”

      Without further hesitation, Keith's finger found the green _answer_  sign.

      “Hello?”

 _“Honey? Where are you?”_   Anna’s soft-spoken register answered rapidly.

      “He's still at my house.”

      “ _Keith_?”

      He imagined the girl squinting with her mouth tilted, wondering why Keith was answering her fiancé’s phone.

      “Lance is sound asleep, I didn't want to wake him.” He stiffened.

_“Are you both safe over there?”_

_“Yeah._ We've sealed the perimeters with sandbags.”

_“Oh, okay.”_

_“_ You're indoors too, I take it?

_“Uh huh. I put on a movie and invited Arthur to come up and watch.”_

      “The doorman?”

_“Yeah…really missed Lance. He just watches: no commentary.”_

      Keith felt the fibers in his back muscles unravel a little. “If it’s something he's never seen before.”

 _“That’s true. I'm never allowed to talk, especially to ask about what’s going on in the film._ ” Her voice shook with a small titter.

      Keith chuckled. “I did that earlier and he paused it. I knew I was in trouble.”

      The girl snickered.  _“He’s like that professor who **needs** you to get the lecture the first time.”_

       “Well, he’s welcomed to stay here in the guest room until this whole thing blows over." Keith concluded with a much more relaxed smile.

      " _Thank you, Keith. I know he's in good hands with you."_

      A pregnant pause.

_“Please stay safe, both of you.”_

      Before severing the connection, they exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. For emergencies. 

      In sleep, no one looked more handsome than Lance ever could, even with the occasional chainsaw sounds. While watching him, he scarcely remembered if he ever had nights where his forehead would crease into a frown and his eyes would squint from something stirring inside of his subconscious. This man always had an attitude about going with the flow; he could always rise to a challenge regardless of what or who. Even someone as stubborn and self-sabotaging as Keith himself.

      No wonder fate gifted him to Anna. Anna Komatsu, the wealthy daughter of a multi-millionaire. In her own right she seemed well-mannered, deliberate, and subtly brilliant. Definitely beautiful. And Lance probably thought she was the bright full moonlight to his sunshine.

      But Keith was an eclipse. No matter how bright he tried to shine even when dimmed, there would always be a shadow concealing that.

~~~~~

      Lance woke up stretching out nonexistent bodily kinks. The sofa he slept on felt more like a twin bed than an actual couch. Krolia had great taste.

      His phone read twelve midnight, but nothing in his impulse said to call his fiancée again to make sure she was okay. Somehow, he knew that she was more bored than anything. Yet the missed call he received marked  _10 pm_  shook up his heart rate a little bit, partly because there was no alert to let him know that he missed the call. Did he talk to her in his sleep or something?

_“Hello, you have reached Anna Komatsu. I am currently busy or away from my phone, so please leave your number and the nature of your call. Thank you. Good bye.”_

_Beep._

      “Hey, girl. Your voice greeting sounds like ASMR or sugar…something like that. It’s midnight, and, um…just letting you know I’ll be home in the morning. Love you.”

      Somewhere in Krolia’s pantry was a stash of premium 1000 ml vodka that he gifted himself. He gently set one of the glasses down from her cabinet and poured half an inch thick of the liquid. He gulped the imminent sensation of dread that seemed to inject into his system whenever he remembered going back to  _that world_  where the woman he loved dwelled. To a universe of putting on heirs, to always having to hold back his profanity around strangers who could care less about him aside from the label of  _Mr. Komatsu_ , or  _Anna’s bitch._  Even if such words were not thrown around, he could just  _tell_. From falsely sincere glances to utter patronizing.

      Mr. Komatsu was the worst one, no one knew who the man really was. If Pidge and Hunk ever really  _knew_  the man with whom Anna had an abusive relationship with, they would pull his products immediately. Yet he couldn’t say anything less they find a substandard replacement for their ingredients…The reality was that airing any dirty laundry spelled utter ruin for him and his friends.

      Maybe starting school later this week would be the beginning of having more of that old dynamic between he and Anna again. Playful, easy, and just a little less  _caged._

      The slight brushing sound of fabric shifting caught his attention as soon as he took a burning sip.

      “You’re awake.” Keith crossed into the vicinity of Lance’s ruminations.

      “Do you think I would be a good husband?” Lance leaned against the island with a sullen, lost countenance.

      “Keith approached him, “You’re a great friend, of course you would.”

      “I remember blabbering on and on about the type of person I wanted to marry…”

      Keith remembered: Someone who had a passion for life, who knew themselves, and as a bonus: unusual, stunning beauty.

      “…One trip to Japan, rushing around trying to catch some train and bam! I swear for  _once_ I wasn’t looking for love.” Lance’s gaze reached into Keith’s as if searching for a lifeline. “Now it’s actually  _hitting_  me: I, Lance McClain, am marrying this  _dream_ of a woman, and into one of the wealthiest families in Olkari!”

      Keith saw it. The pressure mounting when something foreign to him was challenging his mettle, giving him more than he could manage. He remembered Lance’s habit of having to find anything liquid to swallow from a glass. In college it was soda, punch, or anything that wasn’t  _water_.

      If Lance was pinching himself over this, then why was he choosing to drown with vodka again?

      Keith reached over to stop the man before that clear liquid could turn him into the very shell that he wanted to shed. He snatched away the glass and the bottle.

      “Hey, what’s the big idea? You the liquor police all of a sudden?”

      “We’re going somewhere, and it’s gonna do us both some good.” Keith retreated to his room for his jacket, vodka bottle tucked snugly under his arm.

      “Cool! Whatever! Let’s go and do fun shit while it’s raining cats and dogs!”

      But Keith came out of his room wearing a jacket and swiped his keys that were hanging on the wall, looking back at Lance with a hardened stare that  _dared_  him to stay put. Lance tucked in his lip and blew his cheeks out. What was Keith up to now?

~~~~~

      Lance rubbed his chin and circled his gaze around the motorcycle as though it were a rickety carnival ride.

      “You don’t have an extra helmet?”

      “You can always take the car and follow me.” Keith watched his outward fear tenderly.

      “Right…Don’t really feel like driving.” He looked at his parked car resting under the now-clear sky and remembered that he left the damn thing outside all day. “Fuck!” He rushed over to inspect the damage, which somehow there was none. Just a really drenched vehicle. “Oh well, paint job’s indestructible. Could just give her a beauty treatment after…”

      He took a deep breath at Keith’s motorbike and decided to grow his balls back. “I might hold on to you for dear life, Keith. So don’t be surprised if I’m digging into your ribs.”

      “With those claws? Thanks for the heads-up.”

      “For your information, my nails  _stay_ manicured and maintained. Weekly treatments.”

      “You actually have time for that?”

      “Uh, yeah?”

      “Keith gave him his helmet to borrow.

      Lance felt a warning tug in his heart and immediately gave it back to him. “Wait, no no no. I’m not letting your pretty head get splattered during an accident!”

      “Been riding since I was eighteen. That makes  _me_  a pro. Now put it on.”

      The other man sighed and reluctantly climbed on.

      “Anna would  _kill me_ if she knew I was on the back of one of these death traps.”

      “What? Is she gonna put you in a time out, take away dessert for a week?” Keith rolled his eyes as the sarcasm crackled from his tongue.

 _Her dessert means a lot to me!_  Lance almost blurted out.

      Keith kept talking, “You’re engaged, not embalmed. Let’s just keep it between us.”

      Lance huffed, taking the helmet and making sure it was securely strapped to his head. “So, where did you have in mind to go, Don Quixote?”

      Keith glanced behind his shoulder and met Lance with that trademark adventurous smile and naughty eyebrow raise. “Anywhere. Until you tell me where to go.”

~~*~~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy your week, and thanks for reading ♡


	6. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's icy words shivered in his bones from last night. It wasn't the first time Lance had been a complete ass, but this time felt different. He knew that Keith felt some semblance of something, but without quite knowing what. Lance realized that the butterflies and brain fuck that tangoed with him as a youth in college were yet to be done with him. But it was only because of his regression into a teenager last night, right? There was no way this more adult, engaged Lance could still succumb to Keith’s sauciness, wit, and tender cadence, right?
> 
> For now, he exhaled his obsessive thoughts into the humidity of the ocean and sprinted forth onto the surf board stomach first. He found his equilibrium like always, balancing until he was sure the wave was able to give him the support he needed.
> 
> A tremor on his board interrupted all of that and he slipped backwards as the board smacked him harshly in the back of the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Update 10-6:** After coming back to this story months later, it no longer makes sense for me to end the chapter the way that I did (With Mr. Komatsu talking to Keith and Shiro,) so I have expanded this by about a whopping 3,000 words. I feel like this will flesh out the plot and the tensely romantic connection between Keith and Lance. Also, part 2 of Balance will be receiving some plot adjustments as well.

      Keith was probably going to get a ticket for riding without a helmet. At least that was the law in Balmera.

      Lance didn’t seem to nag any more than he did back at home. During the entire ride so far, he was a man a few words.

      Once they maneuvered past the gridlock of the post-rainy traffic, everything was smooth sailing from there. Roads were indeed slick, and he chose to slow down mostly in response to Lance gripping his waist into an uncomfortable pinch. According to the clearing clouds there would not be any more rain. Together, they were free to explore a more open road where they were heading east. There was something unusually beautiful to him about the way the many traffic lights glistened and glowed more vibrantly after a rain storm. He witnessed it many times driving through the desert, but it was nothing like seeing the slickness of cobblestone streets and old-world glory.

      Lance tapped his shoulder and signaled with his hand to go straight ahead. Keith must have trusted him, because he followed through without question. So, this was how it felt to be on the back of a fast motorcycle. Lance felt like one of those tourists in the old movies who stowed away with a handsome, daring stranger who liked to play against the rules and explore uncharted parts of town. And he had to admit, his heart thumped gently enough where it would crack open if it were a steamed nut. It was no longer fear that clawed into him; exhilaration was beginning to feel like a better fit.

      Keith stopped for a moment, only to check out a large spread of partially used lot. Uneven levels of concrete covered what probably used to be grassland, a wheel barrow rested next to a large mixer. It looked like it would take up three mall-sized parking lots.

      Lance removed his helmet and followed Keith’s gaze.

      “Interesting…” Keith asked.

      “Wonder what the hell that could be?” Lance tried to remember any talk of Mr. Komatsu building something large, but he had yet to recall previous hints or anything of the sort. Was there something in the Olkarion news about that? Pidge checked up on that more than anyone he knew, why not ask her? Either way, it was always nice to create jobs for people here.

      “Ready?”

      Lance put back on his helmet and anticipated where Keith was going to bring them next.

~~~~~

      The passing rain left Olkari Beach tonight and granted a beautiful sheen of misshapen dots with mists of outstretched sky that forewarned of clearer days to come.

      Memories of taking these night trips with Keith were what got his nostalgic heart jumping. Every bit of downtown’s detail caught his eye in the shower-soaked streets, from the glow of several jewel-toned glimmers as they reflected on the road, to the robust purr of Keith’s engine enveloping him into a universe separated from the noise of traffic.

      Damn he missed this guy.

      The man with the jet-black hair shot a wind-blown glance to him, which meant  _you good?”_

      Lance flashed an “okay” sign.

~~~~~

      Lance thought he recognized this place the other day as he drove to Allura’s house with his friends; something that looked more like grasslands and far removed from ocean breeze and jagged rocks.

      Keith put the bike in park and killed the engine. “You recognize this place?”

      “Yeah, we passed by it the other day.”

      The scuffle and brush of Keith’s feet caused Lance to follow suit and lean into his usual makeshift tour guide act. “Far beyond the other side of this bridge is where the indigenous Olkarion colonies exist. Its government sanctioned, though.”

      “Probably because it’s generational land?”

      “Yeah. They have bloodlines and tribes that span back a millennium. No one from the mainland are welcomed without a permit or proof that one is related by blood or true marriage.”

      “Interesting…”

      But there was something rather lukewarm about the other man’s slightly bent smile and crossed arms. Lance could feel him hiding something yet again. Except he knew it was something that had to do with him as the subject.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “I’m good.” Keith maintained.

      “Are you? Because we just stopped, and you’re not smelling the flowers or looking at the grass…”

      Keith softened his gaze before finally spitting it out. “Are you happy, Lance?”

      “In this moment, ecstatic.”

      Keith shot him an ambivalent glance that made chills climb to his arms. “That’s not what I mean. Are you actually  _happy?_ In general _?_ ”

      Normally, Keith would allow his friend to leave it at that. Except that Lance’s arms were slowly coming to an interlocking gesture and his carefree grin melted into an uncomfortable grimace.

      “Why wouldn’t I be? Like I said, I’m exactly where I wanna be.”

      “Then why associate yourself with me? I sure as hell am not that spirited  _emo kid_  you knew back in college…”

      Lance half-frowned. “So? Maybe there’s enough of you that’s still familiar…”

      “What could  _that_  be?”

      Well… he offered Keith his helmet back. “Like the fact that you still hate accepting help from friends and strangers. That you’re impulsive to a fault. Should I go on?”

      Apparently, most of his positive traits that had rubbed off the past few years morphed into something that was irredeemable. What treasure could Lance possibly find from digging? “It’s not like I’m any model citizen, but you’ve known that for years.”

      “You say you’re not the same, and I see it, but I don’t quite  _feel it._ You go ahead and tell me all that’s changed about you.”

      Keith huffed, then set the helmet on the front seat of his bike. The words that were previously anchored to his throat slipped from his lips clumsily. “Well for starters, I recently finished a prison sentence.”

      Hearing those words uttered with such remorse made Lance swallow uncomfortably. He noticed Keith shuffling away, then increase his gait until finding a spot against the bridge. His own feet shifted until he was no longer in the cool, weighted shadow of Keith’s motorcycle and that of swaying willows. It was much warmer being next to Keith, even if the man was stewing in the heat of his own vulnerability.

      “Alright, maverick. Out with it.” Lance wasn’t surprised about him spending time in jail, it had only been a matter of time.

      “Grand theft. This guy I was interested in at the time was going to take the fall and there was no way in hell I could let him do that.”

     “Anyone I know?”

 _His ex_.  _His very deceased, late ex._

      “Someone back in Balmera. He’s passed now. Got murdered around the same time as my roommate.” The words escaped dryly, as if both were simple happenings, nothing more.

      His friend’s navy blues slanted in suspicion. “That’s what Krolia…” he rubbed his forearms tensely. “You’re not involved in any of this, are you?”

      “Of what, Lance?” his voice awoken with indignation.

      “Of whatever it was that caused you to go on the run back to Balmera Valley?”

      Keith’s lip tightened. “I wasn’t a fugitive, Lance! I simply wanted to finish what I started and say goodbye to that place for good!”

      “Then why-”

      “My mom hunted me down because I violated an agreement with her to stay here pending their investigation. I ended up paying the consequence with an overnight stay in a desert prison cell.”

      “Well, that’s what you get!” Lance’s gaze stabbed him with reprimand.

      “Yeah! It is!”

      An untouchable chamber twisted briskly in the tissues of Lance’s heart the moment he heard the small break in Keith’s voice. This tough, bad ass of a man could shrink into such a small, remorseful child.

      “The apartment I shared with my roommate was empty, and the final rent closed out our lease. Couldn’t even get closure on my own with Shiro tagging along.”           

      Lance settled a hand on his shoulder, bringing him to a peculiar peace. “Keith. I don’t know what to say…Can’t control everything, just count your blessings that chapter of your life is over.”

      With Krolia in charge of the investigation, there was no other choice.

      “Now to do all that boring shit, like putting in a change of address and getting a new ID, and all that…” Keith droned on sardonically.

      “Well I’m here. For  _whatever_ you need. You know that, right?”

      “I thought you would say that.” He curved his lips into a grateful smile, the midnight ocean of his eyes beaming with fondness.

      Gravity tugged Keith a little. In the present this much was true: that Lance was better off not knowing him any further, and back into the world that was priming him for so much success and untapped potential.

      But Lance suddenly whispered to him: “It could have been you.”

      “Excuse me?!” Keith tilted his head with a frown while caught off guard.

      Lance turned around and grasped Keith’s trembling hand, words spilling shakily from his mouth. “I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met in freshman year!  I know I should have told you then, but I wasn’t aware of  _what_  I was feeling at the time. So I waited. But then you up and  _vanished_ , and I guess life was destined to change for the both of us!”

      Rejoicing had no time to cement itself into Keith’s fluttering heart. A more precarious panic simmered in its place as he seized his hand away. “Honestly, Lance, why the  _fuck_  are you telling me this right now?”

      “So I didn’t lose control and start  _kissing you_  right here!” Lance’s entire body began to tremble gingerly.

      “Oh, classy!”

      “ _AND…_ you and I are friends! I was going to explode trying to keep this inside!”

      Keith whipped off the bridge and stormed towards his motorcycle, a poisonous fog of disbelief shallowing his breaths. But Lance’s words droned on in a haphazard rhythm.

      “I didn’t realize how I felt about you until now! It just gotten more and more evident the more I spent time with you, and…”

      “Lance! Stop  _talking_!” He turned around sharply with a bite and guarded his arms tightly to his chest, the man’s voice echoing in his brain like shattering glass. He exhaled sharply and started the engine among the increasing wind.

      “Keith, I’m really sorry! Please don’t leave me here!” Lance scurried to catch up, mud and grass staining his sneakers.

      He clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring. “Just…hurry up and get on.” His voice broke as he shoved the helmet into his chest.

~~~~~

      Lance started his car’s engine at one in the morning, not wanting to be in Keith’s presence after the man uttered a tepid goodbye from his stoop. It was as if he was  _waiting_  for him to get the hell out of his driveway.

      Unfortunately, another round of imminent showers would detour his plans yet again, but this time he didn’t question the blankets concealing the stars. Nothing could match the storm of guilt and foolishness he felt brewing in his heart.

      “Lance!”

      Keith was waving for him to come inside.

      Lance clicked the key’s engine off. Not wanting to keep Keith waiting in the after-midnight draft, he picked up the pace.

      “Stay the night, then go home in the morning.” His tone was curt, eyes absent of warmth.

      “Okay-”

      “The guest room is on the far right.” He retreated to his room and closed the door without saying goodnight, leaving him in an empty, cold vacuum of sorts.

      Lance received the message and went to the opposite side of the house without complaint or question. No matter how much sorrow trickled from his chest to his heart, he understood from Keith’s silence that he said way too much too soon.

~~~~~

      Morning waves rushed and carried away nothing but the dead hours of the late evening.

      Lance did not sleep that night. In fact, he had just begun to fall into a fit of slumber before waking up with a thumping heart and an intense need to go surfing. Maybe he would sink deep into the ocean's heartbeat and attempt to find some peace there. So, without bothering to tell Keith he was leaving, he took his usual trip to the beach despite the clouds hovering over the large body of water and reflecting what looked like nautical ash above.

      Keith's icy words shivered in his bones from last night. It wasn't the first time Lance had been a complete ass, but this time felt different. He knew that Keith felt some semblance of  _something_ , but without quite knowing  _what_. Lance realized that the butterflies and brain fuck that tangoed with him as a youth in college were yet to be done with him. But it was only because of his regression into a teenager last night, right? There was no way this more adult,  _engaged_  Lance could still succumb to Keith’s sauciness, wit, and tender cadence, right?

      For now, he exhaled his obsessive thoughts into the humidity of the ocean and sprinted forth onto the surf board stomach first. He found his equilibrium like always, balancing until he was sure the wave was able to give him the support he needed.

      A tremor on his board interrupted all of that and he slipped backwards as the board smacked him harshly in the back of the head.

      Darkness. Then a rude awakening as the blur and mixture of the underwater murkiness brushed him swiftly into panic mode. He waited until the waves spat him out and slammed him towards the dry safety of land.

      With a gasp Lance choked violently as salty water sputtered from his lungs and onto the surface where he was hunched over on his knees.

      He felt strong hands rubbing his back and offering his support until he was ready to get up. But Lance was too breathless to utter a sound let alone a few words.

      "I'm okay." He uttered weakly, throat raw.

      "What happened? You're usually a pro at this!" Coran’s voice rang in utter perplexity.

      "Lost my balance." To prove he regained some of the balance he lost, he managed to get up, but immediately felt his surroundings spinning and lowered himself back in the sand.

      "Easy! Easy!" Coran coaxed him. "Doesn't look like it's safe for even the best surfers to be in the thick of it today." He muttered.

      Maybe it wasn't.

      "Coran, I need to go to emergency.” He pointed to his car in the parking lot and allowed the man to carry him to his passenger seat, eventually permitting him to drive to the University Hospital.

~~~~~

      “Yes, I’m here to see Dr. Allura Altea. Let her know an old friend brought in Lance McClain to inspect him for a concussion.”

      “He’ll have to wait and be seen like everyone else. He can’t just cut in front...” The front desk attendant pointed to an empty seat with the butt of his pencil, gaze not budging from the ginger-haired man’s stubborn gait.

      “What was that?” Coran cupped his ear to listen to Lance’s imaginary requests. “He told me that she is to see him at any time, morning, noon, or night!”

      “Coran…” Lance suddenly felt spacey.

      The man frowned, “I’m told that Ms. Altea only sees the wealthy elite. And I believe a good friend of hers is no other this man’s fiancée, aka the daughter of a certain Ren Komatsu. Rather charming if I do say so myself.”

      He then went on to warn that poor soul that he would love nothing more than to leave him alone, granted he didn’t deny the girl’s fiancé proper treatment.

      After finally wearing the clerk down enough to get him to page Allura, Coran waited with Lance patiently.

      “I have orientation tomorrow. What the hell was I thinking?!” Lance moaned into the palms of his hands, mostly from the sensitivity he was experiencing from the light of the window.

      “Coran soothed. “How are you feeling?”

      “Like I’m gonna throw up.”

      “Well we don’t want that, do we?” Coran panicked.

      “Lance?”

      Only one woman he knew could make his name sound like royalty. And thank God for her this morning. Had he been a regular customer, he would have been waiting for at least an hour and having to deal with who knows what? His nausea disappearing was a plus.

      He slowly followed the enthusiastic tap of her heels, eyes slightly squinted from the piercing pain in his temple. Coran filled her in on everything: he had a surf accident and smacked his head on the back of his board, in addition to damn near drowning in the roar of the surf. With that, he waited outside with the promise that he would be here until he was done.        

      “You went out in  _that?_ Dear God, why not just invite every shark and tornado to come and compete for who gets to take your life first?”

      “You watched  _Sharknado?_ ” Lance smiled at her with childish abandon until the familiar dull ache brought him back to the seriousness of the situation. Allura must have taken note of it as the familiar comfort of curtains swaying together flushed out all light.

      “On a scale of 1-10, how bad are the headaches?”

      They were enough to fuck with his sensitivity to light, not enough for him to be eeling on the floor. Definitely a 7. She inspected the throbbing tenderness at the base of his head.

      “That left quite a mark… But there’s no visible bleeding. Any dizziness or blurry vision?”

      “A little bit. When I was walking to my car I felt like my equilibrium was off…”

      “What do you remember in the last twenty-four hours?”

      His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to come up with only waking up on the sand and hacking up ocean water. What the hell did he do after bringing Keith groceries yesterday? Beyond that, he had no idea!

      “So you’ve lost roughly the last six hours of your immediate memory. Alright, I’m going to X-ray your skull for any abrasions or obtrusions, but this will be quick, and you’ll be receiving the scans immediately.”

      “Alright.” He swallowed.

      It was a rather quick five minutes. The results showed that while there was no bleeding or serious damage, he did suffer a mild concussion. In addition, he would be dealing with a weeks’ worth of periodic confusion, memory loss, nausea, maybe emotional irritation. Allura prescribed him to a week of rest despite his protests on behalf of his classes beginning tomorrow.

      “It’s only orientation, correct? Try to tape whatever you need to hear on video or audio recording. And no surfing.”

      Lance pouted with a raspy moan.

      “Umm, please don’t say anything to Anna about this, okay?”

      “It’s a deal, for as long as you take it easy for a few days. And I’m going to prescribe you with something to ease the throbbing and the nausea. Take both of these with food, okay?”

      “Alright, my lady. You’re the doctor, your word is the law.”

      “It had better be.” Her two-toned irises flashed with an inch of austerity. “Seriously, Lance. You’re really lucky. And please, for your sake, wait until there’s no cloud coverage next time.”

      “I promise.”

~~~~~

      A mild concussion. Beautiful. Coran offered to escort him upstairs to his penthouse and he said “yes” this time. Maybe he would be a great cover for what happened this morning.

      The house appeared empty, save for the enchanting glow of morning awash in the room. There was no food on the stove, no Anna waiting in her gown and robe. Which meant he and Coran would get to indulge in the tea and pastries they picked up on the way home. Lance opted for decaf.

      Suddenly Anna emerged from the den with a terry cloth robe for him and brushed his cheek with a kiss.

      Two masseuses, one male and one female, were waiting for them on the patio, tables set up with oils, cucumbers, and other yummy treats that made up a spa day. Just what he needed.

      She greeted Coran with a hug upon noticing the man setting the goodies on the table.

      “What brings you here on a Tuesday morning?”

      “Oh, ran into Lance and thought I’d treat the both of you to some morning nummies. Danishes and Croissants, all plant-based, by the way.”

      “How sweet of you!”

      “You two need this time to yourselves, pre-Graduate couple bonding in all. Farewell for now.”

      “Bye Coran. And thanks.” Lance brought him in for a hug.

      “Anytime.”

      “Don’t be a stranger, Coran!” Anna added.

      So five minutes later, he was in the den at six in the morning in the buff, with only a large towel covering him as he laid down on his stomach. Rough man hands were rubbing his shoulders briskly as he allowed his magic to blanket and shape him into an emotional puddle.

      "Ahh, yeah. Now THIS is how you kick off school year’s eve." he slurred in utter mellow.

      The masseuse exchanged words in what sounded like Swedish or Yiddish, or some kind of 'ish. Lance didn't speak any of it.

      "I was telling my associate: you have knots in shoulders size of boulders."

      "Mmm, boulders...." Anna uttered the words with a chilled stretch.

      Lance broke out into involuntary giggles, until the big guy began digging into his lower back with his elbow and nearly touched his backside.

      "Hey! Watch out for the valleys, Sven!" he warned.

      "No sir. Booty cheeks are off limits."

      Anna's masseuse, in all her short glory, was a stocky build of a woman. She performed a rapid karate chop making ripples against the little woman's back.

      Suddenly, Anna rolled her eyes into a deadpan as her voice tone grew mildly ornery.

      "I'm not a slab of dough, you know? It's okay to be a little more gentle."

      "My apologies, Ms. Komatsu."

      As she adjusted her chops to sideways taps, Anna puffed her cheeks and blew out slowly. Very slowly.

      "Much better." she reversed.

      "You're doing a great job, Helga." Lance redeemed for the young Komatsu's peeking temperament.

      "Yeah..." Anna muttered with a regretful tone.

      "And Sven, a little more to the right, eh?"

~~~~~

      Keith did not leave the house after his last encounter with Lance, nor had he uttered a word with him regardless of the circumstance. After giving himself a day to wallow in his mental fatigue, he snapped out of it and permitted himself to start living again.

      Keith began his run at eight. Only because Shiro overslept on his day off and found himself bumbling on the phone over an invitation to come with him. Shiro usually indulged in the early, still-moonlit hours of the morning. Change of plans.

      So instead of Keith making his way to his favorite bench, with no sketchbook, he was in an immaculate health spa with surface area that could easily covered a small lot in Balmera. Three stories high, surrounded by hexagonal shades of crystalline.  

      “Looking a little down. Everything okay?” Shiro huffed through.

      “Fine.” Keith blew steam from his nose and ran faster until his surroundings become streaks of blurriness.

      Shiro stretched out an arm, finally resigning himself to an air-chopping turbo run to catch up with his younger brother. Keith looked behind him and started speeding up into a sprint. He could hear Shiro calling his name, ignoring the perplexed expressions on his passerby’s faces.

      “Keith!”

      He jammed the breaks on his body, arms hanging to his sides with an eyebrow raised.

      “Why are you  _chasing_  me?! This is not  _tag!_ ” Keith wailed

      “I’m not  _chasing_  you, you’re  _running_  away from me!” Shiro yelped breathlessly.

      Two men and a woman started at them with eyebrows raised and whispers exchanged. Keith took a moment to reflect on the ridiculousness of this situation and waited for Shiro to catch up to him, ignoring the eyes of others burning into his being.

      “Okay, so don’t talk about it right now, even if it’s causing you to have that “weird looking face” that freaks strangers out.”

      Keith had been falling for that damned joke since he was twelve. What irritated him about it was that he feared that Shiro may not have been joking as time went on.

      So after finishing their invigorating jog to the third floor, they entered a room where boxing bags occupied each corner of a 30 ft by 25 ft room, and a large window covered a wall panel. Shiro was steadying the bag for Keith to punch and kick to his heart’s content. The man would hiss short currents of air as his fists recalled muscle memory from childhood classes of complex martial arts. The mid-tempo house music saturating the walls of the club did little to disrupt a rhythm within himself that he did not already percolate to.

      “You know what Lance said to me the other night? He huffed. “That I should have been the one?”

      “The one… _what?”_

      “To be with him!” he forced out with a furious kick to the bag.

      “To be with him… _where?_ ”

      That train of teasing earned Shiro an angry glare. “The one to be with him, as in, in love,  **together**!”

      “Whoa! Keith! Did he really say that to you, to your  _face_?”

      “Just before he almost kissed me.” He could feel the force that churned in his body drain and leave a shaky feebleness. He slid down with his back against the wall and sat with his arms wrapped around his knees.

      Shiro stopped holding the bag and steadily walked over to where Keith was sitting and leveled with the younger man. They both sat in the silence of the room for minutes with only the ceiling fans at background noise. Others who wanted to use the room started to stroll in.

      “Then could that mean he and Anna are having problems? That doesn’t seem like them…”

      “It really doesn’t matter. He  _committed_  to her and he’s a damn coward for trying to back out.” Keith spat while casually rising and wiping his face with a towel, exiting the room with Shiro watching.

~~~~~

      "Okay, so we meet up at Pidge and Hunk's truck at one."

      Anna had a three-hour seminar on psychological theory and the criminal mind. Lance would be immersed in the fun-filled world of Educational theory and the Infant Brain for an hour, followed by orientation at the Child Development Center. Lastly, he would have a meeting for field work at the Preparatory school five minutes away.       

      This was totally going to be like old times, except better because now he could see Anna almost anytime he wanted. There were no continents separating them, and the school was a whole new beautiful campus that they could explore together. At least for him it was new.

      For his first day as a graduate student, he decided to wear dark washed skinny jeans with a shirt and topped with a blue argyle sweater. And Anna looked just like the beautiful collegiate with her rose shaded pencil skirt, short-sleeved cream-colored turtle neck, and long ribbons of plum earth-shaded hair falling in loose curls.

      "Knock ‘em dead." Anna smirked confidently.

      "Back at ya, babe." Lance raised an eyebrow and smiled.

      Ten minutes before the clock tower rang, Lance  _almost_  settled for them knocking fists. But she was so breathtaking that he took it upon himself to lean in and steel an indulgent berry-stained kiss from her, intoxicated with the apple fragrance that he wasn't aware he missed until he inhaled the notes from her collar bone; an invitation from her secret little world.

      "I love you." He whispered.

      "Love you more." she returned fondly.

      As she got ready to slide out the car onto the curb, he held on for a little bit longer to her slender fingers. His muscles were starting to hurt from smirking, and he did not care. But then she flashed him her signature one-eyed squint that said  _enough already._

      As they finally separated, Lance sped to his destination on the other side of campus as he felt guilt quench his chest. Strange that he didn’t know why.

~~~~~

      On the rooftop of the club was an al-fresco eating area, serving the freshest in smoothies, salads, and other nutrition for health nuts. Keith was greeted with a waft of wheatgrass and lemon the moment he and Shiro reached the top.

      Keith asked for a green drink and made a face at Shiro’s order of the dragon fruit lemongrass with Boba.

      “Tapioca is good for you…” Shiro shrugged at Keith’s scrutinizing glare.

      Honestly, what was so difficult about food being  _simple_  in Olkari Beach? Just throw in fruits and vegetables, with a hint of lemon juice, why be so damn complicated? Keith sat at a steel table with a tickle in his gut for some reason, giving up on trying to figure it out.

      While waiting and swiping through his phone for another song to listen to from his classic rock playlist, a handsome man clad in a sleeveless T-shirt and long track pants coolly crossed to the other side of the club. He passed a glowing glance at Keith as he passed.

      Keith swallowed as bashfulness brought his attention back down to his phone screen, which still had his playlist running on muted volume.

      A few short minutes later a mild-mannered woman dressed in the club’s uniform of a tank top and biker shorts brought their drink order.

      “The gentleman behind the pool, sitting next to the Jacaranda over there, would like the two of you to join him.” She chirped.

      “What’s a Jacaranda?” Keith frowned slightly, mouth misshapen in confusion.

      “What gentleman?” Shiro scratched his temple.

      “Ren Komatsu, sir.”

      As they both shot a glance towards the area she described, Mr. Komatsu smirked coolly with a brief hand salute. Keith slid his view to Shiro, who only responded blankly, clearly not knowing what was going on.

      “Shiro? What’s a Jacaranda?”

      “It’s a tree, Keith. A majestic, beautiful tree.”

~~~~~

      Most of Lance’s peers dressed like they were already working full-time. Although, they were probably called  _colleagues_  now. Slacks and shirt for the men, dresses and three quarter-length skirts for the women. Many of them were probably doing some professional work soon after.

      On one part of his brain, Lance absorbed every bit that the Acrylic suit-wearing-in-the-almost-fall-time female professor was saying and pretended to be the avid listener. He threw out head nods, knowing hums, and refrained from blinking. Thankfully he had a phone with excellent voice recording capabilities, which was for damn sure absorbing more of this drawl than his poor brain was. That concussion threw a wrench in most of his faculties, that  _monkey_   _wrench_ made a monkey out of him.

      After the hour finally closed, it was time for a school assignment at the private school five minutes across the street from the university. Ten minutes because he briefly forgot the address that was written down boldly in his new student orientation packet. And after all was said and done with staff and faculty, he left the private school with a swirl of apprehension and anticipation. In a thick folder printed with embossed font, several details and policies painting an elaborate picture of his field work with first grade preparatory students.

      “This should be interesting…”

      Pidge motioned for him to come to the back of the truck and away from the long, hungry snake of students and staff.

      “Here you go, on the house special for my best friend.” Hunk nonchalantly served him a plate of so called “garbage fries”, the ones that he would need a bib to eat with. It was a medley of shrimp, chicken, gravy and green onions with five kinds of cheese melted into a tray of wedge potatoes. Something Hunk once threw together for his friends one undergraduate weekend during a midnight drinking binge.

      “You stay awesome, buddy.” He returned Hunk’s smile as he sat at a table and began digging in.

      While he ate, he swiped his phone and digested sensationalist news. Same old news about restaurants opening, more drivel surrounding the scandal of former police chief Sanda. Then he arrived at a well-written article hinting at the building of a new warehouse on the boundary line of urban downtown and uptown. Construction would be completed as early as Fall of this year. That would be fast work for sure.

      Even under the umbrella, something about the UV brought his headaches back and he quietly thanked himself for the dosage of pain medicine that Allura prescribed him today. After halfway finishing his food, he found himself burying his head in his arms.

      Despite the food rush still continuing, Lance forwent telling his friends goodbye and stumbled away from the bench.

      Ten minutes later, he had yet to remember where the hell he parked. Even with the friendly tweet of his alarm telling him where it was, it was of no help when all he wanted to do was lay in fetal position under a bench on the grass and doze off until the burning hell in his temples disappeared. And to top it off, now he felt the familiar sway of butterflies getting ready to do their worst in his stomach.

      Shouldn’t the medicine be kicking in by now?!

      This had to be the worst of the symptoms. Confusion slabbed on with an insufferable headache like he had never experienced in his life. And there was his car parked under a violet Jacaranda, right next to the Humanities building. Being an area of free parking, he could probably lie back and pray that drowsiness from the medicine would be kind enough to lull him to a deep sleep. He got into the driver’s seat and leaned back until it was a resting place for him to close his eyes.

~~~~~

      “I’m glad to see you active here, Deputy Shirogane.”

      “Likewise, Komatsu-San. If I may introduce you to my younger brother, Keith Kogane?”

      Mr. Komatsu grinned crookedly with a flash of teeth, bowing a quarter of the way, with Keith meeting him equally.

      “Krolia’s son, huh. The appearance is uncanny.”

      “Komatsu-san is a long-time friend to our department.” Shiro looked at Keith.

      Mr. Komatsu sent his apology for missing the promotion ceremony and the party, as he was out of the country on business. But Shiro appeared to think nothing of it.

      Keith remained silent, shyly witnessing the exchange between the two men. Of course!  _Now_  this man’s name rang a bell!

      “Are you Anna’s father?”

      “That I am. They say she has my mysterious gaze…”

      Shiro laughed a little, Keith following suit with a grin.

      Keith fell into a pool of warmth that glowed in the man’s chestnut eyes. There was something about his presence that seemed enterprising yet disarming. His arms were crafted with sinews of strength, toned and well taken care of. A white gold Rolex ornamented his wrist.  

      The three eased into brief conversation of lighthearted fare: The weather, how beautiful the club was: most of it between Shiro and Mr. Komatsu. But the oldest man decided to cut the pleasantries and get straight to the point.

      “I’ve heard about you, Mr. Kogane. I get the impression that you are compassionate, and a champion for justice.”

      “Mr. Komatsu?”

      “I’ve done my homework; you were the one responsible for Galra’s demise. A whistle blower… was that what they called it in this part of the world?”

      Keith nearly swallowed his tonsils. Nobody else knew about that!

      “You should find honor in that; Galra was a threat to mine and anyone’s legacy. You see, I only expect loyalty and truthfulness from my employees, not a monthly  _pay cut_  of two hundred dollars.”

      “Galra stole from so many individuals and their families. I couldn’t let it continue.”

      “No one would in good conscience, which is why I  _detest_ those that retaliate and punish those who do the right thing.”

      The two younger men listened intently for the main caveat.

      “Mr. Kogane, I want you to work by my side as my protegee. And in return, I will provide living arrangements, all amenities paid for the duration of your employment. Do you accept?”

       In all regard to the lightheaded state he immediately found himself in, Keith truthfully told him, with the aid of a cool sip of water, that he would need time to think it over.

       "I feel that midnight would be the optimal time for your decision, then." The millionaire turned to Shiro, gave him his best regards, and wished both men a productive remainder of the day. 

      Keith braced himself for yet another lecture on letting once-in-a-lifetime opportunities pass him by. Instead, Shiro encouraged him to take full use of weighing the pros and cons on an opportunity like that.

~~~~~

_It could have been you…I didn’t know what I was feeling…_

_Lance, stop talking!_

      It was just a dream. Yet it felt strangely like déjà vu was giving him hell

      Lance blinked, sensing for that debilitating headache to come back. Though his forehead was a bit numb, the pain had been long gone. He got up slowly to catch 3:15 on his dashboard and the temperature much warmer than it was a while ago. Apparently, the shade from the car he parked under had since moved despite the leaves above.

      He rubbed his eyes and swiped his phone from the dashboard:  

      Three missed calls. Pidge, Anna, and Hunk.

      A harsh knock at the window nearly caused him to choke on the thick gust of air in his throat.

      Adam remained standing at the car like a statue, his eyebrows bent in a fashion to where Lance was uncertain whether or not he was angry or deeply scared. He rolled the window down in haste.

      “You’re here napping in your car?! Lance, everyone was worried sick!”

      His mouth grew dry and he folded his hands like he did when his mother accused him of being careless.

      “I…”

      “Well, let me call everyone and tell them you’re okay.”

      “Adam.” He moaned and rubbed his eyes with his palm. And when the strange color sparks faded from view, he saw to his dread that the older man had yet to relax his stance.  

      “What’s between your legs?” Adam asked him sternly.

      Lance raised an eyebrow and forgot to think twice before being a smart-ass. “You know…God gave all us men the same thing…”

      “Don’t play. That prescription, what is it?”

      “Pain killers.” He pouted. “Since you’re probably gonna knife it out of me, I hit my head surfing and got a mild concussion, okay? I’ve been having headaches lately.”

      “Lance, you shouldn’t be behind the wheel let alone sleeping in a parking lot. Please, let me drive you home.”

      Lance could not let that happen. Because once his head hit the pillows and the lights were out, it would remain that way. Just sitting in sunlight was killer enough, but not compared to the dull pain he would experience missing the remainder of the first week. His hands began to tremble from the stress seeping into him. He mentally prepared himself to handle an umpteenth lecture from Adam about taking better care of himself.

      “Lance, who did you see?”

      “Allura.”

      “So, she definitely prescribed bed rest, and you think you have the balls to go against that? Don’t be so-“

      “I miss this week and my entire schedule is fucked!” he hugged himself while biting his bottom lip. He _knew_ he would go there. The burning pill of shame dispersing in his abdomen did not distract from anything, “so before you start lecturing me or _whatever_ else, I’ve already decided I’m going to ride this out while class is in session!”

      “Ride _what_ out?”

      Pidge’s voice carried to the two men as quickly as she carried herself. Anna and Hunk were not far behind.

      “Sinuses.” Adam barely hiccuped. “You know how the pollen starts flying around and screwing us sensitive souls over?

      “You slept in the car?” Anna asked sadly.

      “Yeah, there was a perfectly empty bench with your name on it.” Hunk added.

      “True…but wouldn’t that be like me being allergic to bee stings and then _whoopsie daisy,_ I’m resting right under a beehive.” Lance scratched his cheek, trying to sound and feel as convincingly fine as he could.  “Well, I’m done with classes until Wednesday. Might as well get home and start dinner or something. Any requests?” He immediately turned to his fiancée despite the proverbial angel on his shoulder budging him.

      “Surprise me.”

      “Then surprise you I shall.”

      ~~~~~

      Before heading home, Lance took a detour to the opposite direction in hopes that a trip to the store would at least give him a clear brain. But the moment he processed having to travel all twelve aisles, he immediately wanted his feet to drag him right back to his car and straight to the beach. The fluorescents above were like cheap strobe lights; flashy but served no purpose but to encourage the mad thumping in his forehead yet again.

      He grabbed tortillas and _firm tofu,_ the latter he squinted at. What _even_ was that supposed to be made up? Anna said it was soybeans, but never had he seen soybeans in a canned food isle _._ Any woman that could stick with such a healthy habit deserved to have such a slim body, especially during that time of the month when off to some plant-based bakery he would go.

      The rest of the vegetable and spice ingredients were at home, thank God.

      At least he thought he would head home, until a familiar rumble of a motorcycle pulling out of the parking lot shook him from feet away. When Keith and his mullet refused to look back, adrenaline kicked in as he started the car and nearly hit someone coming to park in an adjacent space. His breath pressed into his nose as the driver shouted a curse at him.  

      ~~~~~      

      Keith knew that Lance was going to meet up with him sooner rather than later. He just didn’t expect that Lance was going to hightail it out of the parking lot so damn fast. There was no way he was going to banish the sight of that Blue Spyder out of his rearview...

      After Keith killed his engine, Lance’s followed with the anxiety-provoking slam of his passenger door.

      “I need to talk to you.”

      “Couldn’t stop you if I wanted too…” Keith’s voice was reticent, body language more standoffish even for him as he leaned with his arms and legs crossed against the bike.

      Silence hung in the air as Lance’s eyes moved from left to right, mentally processing whatever was coming up next.  Keith just settled firmly, searching for whatever peace there was in the ceasing of the moment.

      “So…you went home that morning?”

      “Huh?”

      “That night you slept over, you went home after the storm ended.” Keith’s voice carried an edge of impatience for some reason. “What’s the matter with you? Finish that vodka off or something?”

      “Can’t remember much…”

      “Right…” he sighed after letting the sound of distant waves have their say with his nerves. “You know, Mr. Komatsu offered me a job.”

      “As what?”

      “Business trade.” Keith said sharply, “working side by side with him, as a good gesture for what I did to his competitor in Balmera.”

      “So he’s _buying_ you.” Lance uttered defiantly, arms folded solemnly.

      At that moment Keith didn’t know whether to stew in shame or react in anger. “Well I can’t be bought that easily.”

      Lance looked at his bag in the driver’s seat and closed the door, choosing to wait outside. “Hope you’re right.”

      “Well, I didn’t accept anything yet, still taking until midnight to think things through.”

      “Allow me to do that for you: **don’t.** ”

      Keith clenched his teeth until they ached, throat expanding with anger, “I don’t think it’s your place to tell me what to do!”

      “I’m severely warning you about Mr. Komatsu, for a reason, man!” In the two years that he had been engaged, Lance learned much about Anna’s father; that he was unfairly all-seeing, calculating and insulting without being outwardly so, and that anyone who was half as powerful as he was could only gain an ounce of his respect. Lance drew reference from every single time the man cut and demeaned him with his words, like barbs wrapped into neatly gathered rose bouquets.

      “Of course he gives _you_ a hard time, Lance. You’re marrying his only child, and the heir to his fortune. This might sound harsh, but you don’t seem to fit the “image” of what he’s looking for…”

      “Meaning _what,_ Keith? My being Latino?!”

      “Non-Japanese, Lance. Non-wealthy.” Keith emphasized. It was true, no matter how much his heart stung for him. “Tell me that for one minute you don’t question your place in Anna’s world? That you’re not feeling trapped.”

      “I…”

      Lance swallowed in hopes of soothing the hard bulge in his throat, voice gentler this time in spite of unearthing pity. "Aren't you tired, Keith. Of all of this?"

      "I should be  _very_ tired of arguing with you right now, Lance."

      "I mean of all the shit you  _still_  put yourself through by trying to do everything on your own. After all the breaks _you’ve_ been given."

      “Weren’t you partially responsible for that?!” Keith wailed.

      “Well excuse me for being generous!” Lance spat angrily.

      “I’m grateful for what you did, but I’m getting a little tired of you and everyone else treating me like some charity case! And lately I have suspicions about your motives!

      “Keith, everyone could see you were struggling. I just happen to have a little extra…”

      “No, Lance! You saw me as someone to rescue in order to save yourself from the guilt of using your fiancée’s resources!”

      Lance wanted to throw a rebuttal back at him. But instead of comebacks or other inconvenient truths, those faded into oblivion as his throat locked up.       

      “Sounds like  _you’re_ the one trying to buy  _me._ ” Keith’s voice fell into a whisper like an icicle, “Looking back now, your so-called “generosity” screams of someone who is bartering their way into someone else’s pitiful world… to get away from the desperation of his own. “

      No argument, no indignant yelling. Hell, Keith expected a physical escalation. But Lance’s mouth remained shut, eyes darkened with vulnerability and vapid of conviction.

      “Is it her, or is it me?” Keith’s eyes brimmed with demand, yet the glimmer in it revealed a fear that shattered Lance’s thoughtscape into a million pieces.  

      “Keith…” He walked toward him and caressed his face until their foreheads touched, as if sacrificing something precious. The man with the facial scar refused to fight the last bit of affection given to him. “It’s _you_. It’s always been _you_ …” Tears rip from him and stain his sweater, making dark, haphazard dots.

      “You’re still on the fence…” Keith’s voice broke. _But_ Lance was engaged. _But_ Lance was far too goddamned cowardly to give everything up. How resentful he was becoming of that word: _but._

“I want to, _but_ it’s not that simple.”

      “Why the hell not?!”

      “It’s complicated.”

      “Then MAKE IT UNCOMPLICATED!” Keith rasped as anguish pressed his throat.

      “I’d lose EVERYTHING if I left now!”

      If Lance stayed, he would _still_ lose everything. Like being in a riptide. He was in no position to be selfish. Friends, family, _everyone_ had a stake in his commitment.

      Keith exhaled and before issuing the final blow, “Then I’m begging you: marry Anna. Love and cherish her in ways you can’t do for me.” His voice trembled as heat gathered in his eye sockets.

      At last, Keith broke away from Lance’s caress and listened from behind as the other man finally returned to his vehicle, the door’s closing much more muted as he started the ignition. The usual tune from inside sounded like a sad cacophony as the car finally backed out.

      As Keith lowered his head sadly, he tightly sealed his own self-anger and sorrow until Lance disappeared into traffic heading east. Once he was alone, he roughly rubbed his face downward while thick tears cascaded from his eyes, chest and lips quaking. He managed to get glimpses of pale reds and blues as the last of sunset concluded.

      That evening, he settled like a monument on his bed, and he called Mr. Komatsu to officially accept the position.

~~*~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading!  
> This particular story is heavily self-indulgent on my part, which is why I’m more of a perfectionist than usual: I want to bring to the page _as close_ to mood, setting, dialogue as I’m envisioning at the time, and some elements have been changing as my writing matures and as I get a much clearer/more refined vision of the overall frame. But know that I’m always going to let you know in advance as a reader when I do change something significant and I’ll be writing exactly what it is.  
> Good news is that I’m 100% satisfied with what I’ve done with Part 1 (period), and it will set a much better stage for the action in part 2, which will also get a needed adjustment.  
> Thanks so much for your patience and understanding ♡


	7. An announcement ♡

     Hi! I'm putting this here just in case you've finished Chapter 6 and are wondering if the story ends here. The answer: This story is _far_ from over!

     I decided to split it up into three volumes and put it into [it's own collection](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1402054). This volume you just finished (Happiness) was more setting the stage with Keith leaving behind his Balmera past and with Lance beginning to question how satisfied he really is with his life (his accident is temporary...). 

     The next volume, _Balance_ will continue the story and will start blossoming Klance/Laith's relationship sooner rather than later. As the world of Olkari Beach opens up and other storylines come to attention, it will be more fast-paced with point-of-views from other characters. 

     I'll be working on Reckless Abandon for as long as the VLD fandom is still active enough. :) Though it's been fun and self-indulgence on my part, thank you much for reading and for supporting me as I have written (and frequently re-written!) this fic! ♡

 

 


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